Chuck vs the Long Days and Nights
by malamoo
Summary: Sequel to Chuck vs the Missing Years. Familiar faces from Chuck's past return, Sarah hasn't been entirely truthful, and Chuck doesn't know who to believe. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay, I didn't think I would be doing this because I intended the last story to be a standalone but the idea came to me and I decided to see where it would go. This is a sequel to Chuck vs the Missing Years. This is basically a what-if on a what-if for those of you who thought the happily-ever-after was too fluffy. __The timeline is a few months after the last chapter of Chuck Vs TMY. If I had more foresight, this story would have taken place instead of the final chapter of the last but it only came to me after the fact...so what can you do? _

_Synopsis: Familiar faces from Chuck's past return, Sarah hasn't been entirely truthful, and Chuck doesn't know who to believe. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. Boo. _

* * *

Chapter 1:

The clock on the wall ticked like a bomb ready to blow, the two hands situated neatly at the four and half mark. Sarah sighed and wondered what had happened to her day. There were still three open files sitting on her desk awaiting her appraisal and she hadn't even finished analyzing the first.

Sarah stared at the clock. If there was any truth in the old adage about the boiling pot, then perhaps she could slow time just long enough to make it out of the office by five.

No such luck. The material was interesting enough and she was flattered the agency would seek her consultation. Though she would never be able to take part in the actual capture, she still felt like she was doing her bit to make the world a better place. Sometimes when her body itched for the excitement that was her old life, that thought was all she had to contend with.

Just as she felt like she was finally getting on track, her eyes drifted from the series of surveillance photos to the framed photograph sitting on the edge of her desk. She sighed, acknowledging that she had no hope of completing the report today. She picked up the frame and examined it ruefully, wishing her sister-in-law had given her fair warning before taking the shot. Her husband beamed at the camera with a smile so wide she could almost make out his back molars while her own smile was far more subdued. It wasn't fair; she had been startled and it gave the false impression that her husband was far happier to be with her than she was to be wrapped in his arms.

_You're getting as bad as Chuck,_ she scolded and put the frame back. She was supposed to be the diligent one, the one who was always on task but today she wanted nothing more than to escape the four nondescript walls of her office.

Fridays never used to mean anything to Sarah. Work was every day of the week, every moment of her waking and sometimes sleeping hours. There were no holidays too sacred, commitments too important, and plans too ingrained that she couldn't discard when the moment arose.

That all changed two short years ago, and now Fridays meant family dinner at her sister-in-law's. After years of disappointing her with cancellations and lame excuses, they promised they would never do it again. And save for the trump-worthy events—her husband's game launch, a mishap in the kitchen that required seven stitches to his hand, and most recently Ellie's delivery, they had made good on that promise. If they didn't, they were sure they would never hear the end of it.

At a quarter to five, Sarah packed her things and left the office and the files behind. Her bag felt strangely light and empty on her shoulder. She might sneak in a few hours on the weekend if her husband had something to do but she made it a rule never to take work home with her.

As she walked down the hallway, Sarah managed a few polite smiles towards her coworkers. For the most part they ducked their heads and avoided her gaze but a few ventured as far as to wish her a nice weekend.

She sighed. It was undeniable that a part of her yearned for their acceptance. Their fear of her was irrational, but the fact she worked unseen in the building undoubtedly drew suspicion. Her own natural unease with strangers had its hand in doing the rest, dividing her from the rest of her colleagues. She wasn't like them though; them with their quaint little lives, round-table coffee breaks, and _n_th-day-accident-free pander from HR. Her own life was complicated, and her presence here was merely a mime of theirs. When necessary she integrated herself into the cover and took the occasional shift at the front, but her incompetence probably instilled a good dose of jealousy to add to their misgivings.

Why did she get her own office when she couldn't even manage the wicket? How come the department head never gave her heck for coming in late? How come she didn't have to show at mandatory company meetings? The accusations were endless.

As Sarah slipped into the driver's seat of her beloved Porsche, she knew she was just adding one more item to the long list. It had been two years now, and she still struggled with the idea of being _normal_.

She wondered if she would ever know what that word meant.

_

Despite all her skill, Sarah could not escape the inevitable rush hour congestion. She sat blocked on all sides, forced into a standstill. The radio was beginning to grate on her nerves so she switched it off and turned down the window just a crack, letting the air conditioning go to waste. Flicking her hair against the breeze of smog-infested air, Sarah wondered to herself whether this was what _normal_ meant.

Guilt crept into her thoughts and she shook her head, trying to physically ward it off. Thoughts like that would upset Chuck, and ergo, herself. She hated having this much idle time; it allowed her stubborn conscience to speak its mind and these days, it never had anything good to say.

_You should have told Chuck, _it accused.

Yes, she knew that but after they got back together, things had been hard. Neither of them had a job and much to her chagrin, they had to move back in with Chuck's sister. The tension in that home, the struggle she felt with Chuck's absence of mind—compounded with ending a career that had meant everything to her for the last decade, made a joke out of the word 'difficult'. With no friends, no funds, no past to rely on, the agency had tried their hardest to make her reconsider.

Sarah tried to find honest work, but there was always a reason or other for being turned down. She never confronted the agency about it, but she was sure they had a hand in that.

She couldn't handle relying on Chuck, it wasn't fair. It was like expecting a blind man to lead the way. She hated to disappoint him, and living under Ellie's scrutiny magnified all her failures to live up to the woman's brother.

So when the time came and the agency offered her work, _nothing serious_, she agreed. They gave her the cover she needed to satisfy her sister-in-law, the money she needed to move her and Chuck into their own place, and the life of excitement she thought she'd have to live without. In short, they gave her everything she could want…all in exchange for one little white lie.

_You need to tell him._

No. She didn't. For the past few months she felt like things had finally returned to the way they used to be. Ellie loved her and more importantly, Chuck loved her.

She couldn't lose that again.

_

Sarah stepped into the apartment and before she could even throw down her bag, Chuck hugged her from behind, burying his head in her hair.

"Chuck!" she gasped and for a second all her spy senses were on high-alert. Either she was getting rusty or Chuck was getting good at sneaking up on people.

"Hello, Mrs. Bartowski," he greeted, nuzzling her ear. She giggled, the sensation sending shivers down her spine.

Sarah spun around so that she could get a good look at her husband. He grinned like the loveable nerd he was but there was something else in his eyes. A rare smugness she never encountered when they were in public; Chuck looked as if he knew exactly what she was about to do.

She did it anyway. Yanking on his tie, she pulled him into a long, deep kiss as if they had been separated for days and not the hours since the morning. She ran her hands through his soft, beautiful hair, trying to hide the moan that nearly escaped her lips. Those damnable curls were her personal kryptonite. That, and the unwavering warmth of his chocolate eyes.

"Long day at work?" he asked with a wag of his brows.

For a second, Sarah almost told him what she'd seen today. About the surveillance photos, the murder victims and the list of names. But that wasn't their life anymore. She wasn't about to be the one to draw through Chuck's new life with a permanent marker.

"Much too long," she agreed.

Chuck's arms tightened, pressing their bodies so close together she could feel the calm rhythmic beat of his heart against her cheek.

"How do you do it?" he asked, pressing his lips to her temple. She could feel his breaths, so even and warm, hover over her.

"Do what?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Count bills. Deal with rude customers. Deposit cheques for people on their lunch break," he said. "You can do so much better. I know you can."

The guilt of it made her want to flinch. _White lies. They are all innocent white lies. _

Sarah wanted to ask Chuck how he _did_ it. Look at her that way, as if she had all the answers in the world, all the solutions to his problems, all the strength to lift mountains and change the fate of the world with a touch of her finger.

She smiled, unsure how to answer. She wanted to tell him the truth, but looking into those eyes, she didn't see how she could. He didn't remember anything; he didn't know the person she once was. She was already grateful enough that he wanted to be with her _despite_ the fact she was none of the things she had been. It made her love him all the more.

"Sarah?"

Sarah looked up and realized she was taking too long to reply. "I like it," she said, another white lie. "I don't mind."

He freed her from his grip and she was instantly aware of the loss. She felt her body drift without him to secure her in place, and she wondered if it had been something she said. But her worries were quickly placated when his hands cupped her chin, his palms resting perfectly against her cheeks.

"I don't want you to feel like you are there because of me," he said, looking her dead in the eye. "I want you to be happy."

Sarah didn't know if words could describe how she felt. "Oh, Chuck," she whispered.

"Because we have money. The game's selling well and you don't have to work so hard." He looked at her and she thought what he really meant was _I can take care of you now. I can be that person you've been waiting for._

"Chuck…" she uttered. Her eyes began to fill with tears and she had to close her eyes to hide them. What had she done to deserve him? She leaned into him, her cheeks brushing against his day-old stubble. It was the perfect contrast between smooth and rough.

"I want you to be happy, Sarah," he repeated, and with one finger pried her chin upwards to face him.

Sarah wanted to slap her foolish husband. "Of course I'm happy," she said. "How could you think otherwise?" She kissed him, hoping her actions could speak for themselves. She had never been very good with words.

"And I love my job, I'm happy there." She smiled for him, putting as much truth behind her words as she could. But at the end of the day, she knew if she wasn't being a hundred percent honest, she was still a liar.

Chuck smiled back. "Okay. Do you want to change and then we'll hop over to Ellie's?"

Sarah nodded, relinquishing herself from him. He wore a similar expression on his face. Separating, even if it was only for a few moments, was still difficult.

As she walked down the hall, she stole a glance at her husband. He was calling Ellie, telling her they'd be over soon.

It tore at her that she was still lying to Chuck after they'd promised to start over with their new lives, but she just couldn't see the harm. All wives lied to their husbands, whether it was feigning an interest in their favorite sports team, pretending to like that one insufferable friend of theirs, or fibbing about the price of the latest article of clothing bought. Harmless. Little. Lies.

_You keep telling yourself that._

Sarah sighed. She would.

_

_"Heads up. Ellie's never been one for subtlety,"_ Chuck had warned before they stepped into his sister's home. Sarah had laughed.

_"About what?" _she'd asked with a shrug.

Chuck had responded by rolling his eyes. _"Is that all you've got? Playing dumb isn't going to work." _

Indeed. Sarah thought she had prepared herself but she could never prepare enough. They'd never explained anything specifically to Ellie about the past, so it had taken some time to win the girl over; especially since she lacked the same faith Chuck had in her.

Things were finally good now, now that Sarah had finally settled down with her brother and the two of them had dependable, respectable careers. She could tell Ellie was still worried though, as if at any moment she might abandon her brother and leave all over again.

Today the elder Bartowski was too preoccupied with the new addition to her family to pry into her brother's.

"Ellie, you look great!" Sarah exclaimed, as she gave a brisk hug to the slightly distracted brunette. "I can't believe you had a baby last week. You can hardly tell."

Ellie laughed nervously. "Well it's amazing how many calories you can burn when you don't sleep," she muttered. "I haven't been so sleep-deprived since my residency days."

Despite the fact she had dark circles under her eyes and her hair had been messily pushed back into a ponytail, Sarah thought she still looked beautiful. The fact she felt comfortable enough (though she may have merely forgotten) to change out of her robe and pajamas was endearing.

"Chuck! There's my baby brother!" Ellie exclaimed and ran up to hug him as well. "Speaking of babies…"

Chuck laughed, rolling his eyes when Ellie wasn't looking. Sarah caught it though. "You held off for all of one minute, Sis, I'm impressed."

Ellie remained undeterred. "I'm just saying…you're not getting any younger either. What are you waiting for?"

Sarah ventured into the kitchen to help Devon. If she tuned her hearing she might have been able to catch the exchange between the siblings but she preferred not to.

"Don't mind her," the man affectionately referred to as 'captain awesome' informed. "She hasn't slept in awhile."

Judging by the much subdued manner in his speech, Sarah guessed the same for Devon.

"She thinks it would be a great idea if you had kids now so our kids could play together."

Sarah tilted her head, still trying to ignore the conversation in the background. "Well if Chuck and I waited another couple years, they could babysit," she joked.

Devon smiled. "Don't tell her you said that," he warned. "That would be so _not_—"

Sarah rolled her eyes, suppressing a laugh. "Awesome," they said in unison. Devon smiled and held up his hand, which she heartily high-fived.

_

After dinner the entire family gathered on the living room couch with all eyes focused on the latest addition. Sarah had initially declined the honor of holding the baby but Ellie was insistent. No doubt the brunette hoped Sarah would feel inclined enough to have one of her own if she spent enough time with one.

"I can't believe how big he's gotten," Sarah awed, shifting her arms to the weight of something so small and incomprehensibly important. She felt like she was cradling a golden feather, where even the slow exhalation of her breaths could rouse the sleeping treasure.

Ellie giggled beside her. "Relax, Sarah, he's not made of glass."

If only. Glass was far more durable.

Sarah realized she was holding the baby awkwardly when he began to squirm. She flushed with embarrassment and looked pleadingly at her husband, hoping he would take him off her hands. But Chuck's eyes were fixated on the now grimacing baby.

"Uh, I think you should take him back," Sarah said, beginning to panic. The baby clearly didn't like her and she had about three seconds to hand him off before he let everyone know.

"You're fine," Ellie said, smiling broadly at her.

Chuck reached out and stroked a tendril of the baby's hair and in an instant, he was quiet again. Sarah watched in awe. She had no doubt he would make a wonderful father.

"William Weston Woodcomb," Chuck stated with an amused glance at Devon. "That's quite a mouthful."

Devon shrugged. "It has a nice ring to it. And if he doesn't like it, we'll just tell him that a bad name builds character."

Sarah looked at Chuck and he met her gaze. She didn't have to be a spy to guess that he was thinking what possible alliterations they could make with a last name like Bartowski. It wasn't the first time she'd ever considered having children, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but she knew she wasn't ready. Chuck may be the perfect father but she was anything from a suitable mother.

Sarah smiled and just then, the baby yawned and opened its eyes. When she looked down, Sarah felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room and she clutched the swaddling blanket tighter, fearing she would lose her grip.

She knew the newborn in her arms held no resemblance to Chuck and certainly none to her, but staring down into those innocent eyes, she forgot for a moment that he wasn't hers. With Chuck's arm around her, the two of them staring down at the precious bundle, she thought there couldn't be anything more perfect.

Sarah was suddenly filled with a sense of deep longing. Looking into Chuck's eyes, he seemed to shift back, afraid to let her see that he wanted it too.

"So?" Ellie prodded anxiously. "When do you think you'll have children?"

Sarah held her breath. Chuck's amnesia wasn't the only reason for their lengthy engagement; everyone knew what happened after kissing in the tree and marriage.

"I don't know," she said, unsure whether she was lying white or outright. On the outside everything looked normal—stable, but her relationship with Chuck was still new and fragile. Having a child felt like playing with fire and she wasn't ready to throw chaos into what was already so perfect.

"Don't know?" Ellie asked, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

"Ellie—" Devon chided gently, throwing her a look which she promptly ignored.

"Sarah and I are taking things slow," Chuck cut in. Sarah wanted to laugh; they said it so often they should make it their personal motto.

"Slow?" Ellie repeated, wrinkling her brows. "You guys have been together for almost seven years. I think slow is an understatement."

"Ellie…" Chuck warned. Sarah kept quiet and focused all her attention on the baby. In another ten seconds she would be forced to defend her answer, but for now, she just wanted to pretend that this simple life was hers.

_And baby makes three…_She held out her pinky finger and the baby latched on, grabbing it tight with its tiny fist. It was a strong grip, one full of life and promise.

Sarah smiled. This could all be hers if she wanted. The only question was, did she?

* * *

_So.....__how was that? There's been a bit of a time shift so if you didn't understand something, please ask. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Chuck opened his eyes to the morning light only to realize he was being watched. He groaned and pulled the covers over his head, trying to hide from the inevitable start of the week.

"Sarah…" he murmured, his thoughts still half-formed.

He heard her laugh beside him, and felt her long, nimble fingers roam across his chest, pulling him towards her. Blearily he opened his eyes to regard her, and wondered how she could look the way she did when it was only six in the morning. She gazed at him, her eyes light like the morning sky, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Sarah, you know how creepy it is when you watch me sleep?"

She responded with a playful box to the ears and Chuck buried himself deeper into the mess of pillows and sheets, trying to duck from her attack.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Chuck looked sheepishly at her, making the most of his puppy-dog eyes. "But it startles me when you do that."

She tilted her head and whatever thoughts she was thinking, she kept to herself. "I can't help it," she said. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is real."

Chuck smiled. "I know," he said, gazing at her. "Have I told you how beautiful you look this morning?"

Sarah looked skywards, briefly considering the question at hand. "Not yet and I'm still waiting," she said with the most mischievous grin he'd ever seen.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, taking in the sight of her. "You really are."

Sarah seemed to glow at the compliment, every inch of her body intent on living up to his words. She kissed him softly and sweetly first, but then the tides turned and she pounced on him, nibbling on his lower lip with a cat-like grin.

"Well that's a very eloquent way of getting into my pants, Mr. Bartowski," she teased. Chuck flushed deep red just as she knew he would.

"I didn't mean—" Before he could finish his sentence, she had already captured his mouth again. It just wasn't fair. He was still dazed with sleep, vulnerable to an assault.

Breaking from the long kiss, she raised her brows and tilted her chin just the slightest. Chuck sighed with contentment, always a willing subject when it came to being taken advantage of.

_

An hour later, Sarah was immaculate in her work attire and Chuck looked like a slob with an expensive tie. He leaned on the kitchen counter, taking a slow gulp of coffee as he watched his wife simultaneously loop her earrings, pour coffee into a travel mug and punch a memo into her cell all in the same time it took him to swallow. It just wasn't fair.

When she saw him wearing yesterday's dress-shirt with the tie hanging loose and lop-sided, she frowned and marched over to him.

"What will people think when their boss marches into the office looking like this?" she asked, her hands already impulsively around the ends of the silken cord. She wound the fabric deftly, tightening here, loosening there, ultimately forming the perfect Windsor. Chuck thought it looked odd with the rest of his casual appearance but given that Sarah had tied it for him, he was reluctant to loosen the knot.

"I don't think I'll be going to the office today."

Sarah frowned. "Big plans?" she teased.

Chuck was tempted to stick his tongue out at her. "No," he said, pretending to look offended. "Morgan's out of town on vacation and there's not a lot I can do without consulting him. I want to plan our next big thing together, you know?"

"Morgan on vacation…alone?" Sarah arched her brows. "That's hard to imagine."

Chuck laughed. "Well, more like a business trip. He's gone to Japan."

"Stealing ideas?" Sarah asked with a devilish grin. "Sniffing out the competition?"

Chuck put his arms around her, bringing them close enough so their foreheads touched. "Something like that," he whispered.

"Did you want to go too?"

Chuck paused and he saw that she was staring at him. He was afraid she'd pull away, but she leaned even closer, eager to hear his answer.

He shook his head. "No."

"It's okay, Chuck. You should have gone," she said, her shoulders sinking just the slightest. "He's your best friend."

He gripped her tight, making sure she could see his eyes. "Hey. I wanted to be with you."

Sarah smiled despite herself. As skilled as she was at hiding her emotions sometimes, Chuck knew she was flattered.

"You can be with me any time," she said. "I don't want Morgan to feel like I'm stealing you away."

"You can't compete with Morgan," Chuck informed matter-of-factly.

He could see Sarah's eyes widen at the statement and she tilted her chin up at him.

"Oh is that so?" she asked, even though it looked more like she wanted to say, _And just why not?  
_

Chuck grinned. "That's right. You see, I wouldn't be able to do this with Morgan." He leaned in and took her lips, surprising her with his boldness. Sarah pulled back, startled by the turn of events.

Then she smiled at him. "Or this," she said with an arch of her brow and returned the gesture with twice the fervor.

When they finally broke free from one another's embrace, Sarah rolled her eyes.

"This is exactly why we need to get up two hours before work starts," she said as she reapplied her lip gloss.

Chuck could only smile. He walked her down the hall and gave her one last kiss at the door.

"Hey." He held her hand just as she was about to leave. "I'm sorry about Ellie." They hadn't discussed it all weekend, but he knew it was still there at the back of their minds. They couldn't escape the elephant in the room no matter how hard they tried.

Sarah's smile waned and she seemed to struggle with her composure. "It's okay," she said with a shrug. "It's just Ellie. She was just trying to look out for you."

Chuck wasn't satisfied with the answer. "I don't mind…taking things slow, just so you know." Even though it had almost been two years since he lost his memories, sometimes he still felt like a blind man trying to feel his way towards the light. They had built new memories together, but nothing could ever replace what had been removed. That was a fact not lost on either of them.

Sarah swallowed slowly. "Please don't think it's you," she said. "You're wonderful. You'd make a wonderful father. It's me."

Chuck stroked her cheeks, afraid he'd find invisible tears. "I know."

"I'm—"

"Complicated," they both said in unison.

Chuck smiled and nodded. "I know."

Sarah nodded sadly. "This isn't really the time to talk about this." She glanced down the hall of their suite at the elevator. "Later?"

"Later," he agreed. Chuck kissed her one last time, but he couldn't help feeling like a part of her wasn't really there.

_

Chuck had a slow morning. He sent out a few emails to Morgan, snuck in an hour of _research_ on the game console and called in a box of muffins and donuts to the office with a note telling them he wouldn't be in for the day.

As the noon hour was about to roll in, Chuck decided to head down to the deli and pick up lunch for him and Sarah. He called her first to make sure she wasn't in the middle of something, her rule—not his, and she sounded relieved to hear his voice. Chuck was relieved too, to know that their morning conversation didn't have a lasting effect on her.

Sometimes he still had an irrational fear that she would realize she'd made a mistake and leave him, but then he reasoned it was merely his sister's paranoia setting in. After their so-called breakup three years ago, an incident Chuck happily failed to remember, it had been Ellie trying to pick up the pieces. He couldn't blame her for being nervous and he was sure she would have been more understanding if she knew the truth. Whatever that was.

Sometimes Chuck felt like he'd won the lottery; jumping from point A to point B with none of the mess inbetween.

"So meet you for lunch?"

He thought he almost heard her laugh on the other line. "Same time. Same place."

_

Chuck parked the car a block from Sarah's work and entered the deli . His timing was perfect and there was hardly anyone there.

"Hello, Mr. Bartowski, the usual then?"

Chuck gave a friendly wave and selected two bottled waters and toasted sandwiches like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and paid the cashier the exact amount in bills and then some for the tip jar.

Just as he was about to leave, he bumped shoulders with the man next in line.

"Chuck?"

"Bryce?" he asked in disbelief, nearly dropping the take-out bag. He couldn't believe his bad luck. Of all the deli's in all the world, Bryce Larkin had to walk into this one?

"Hey! Chuck!" the man greeted with a wide grin and hugged him warmly, slapping him on the back for good measure. Much to his disappointment, Bryce was no less handsome than he had been during their Stanford days. Even in a grubby sweatshirt and shorts, there was no hiding his toned physique. Though Chuck was the taller of the two, Bryce held a presence that more than made up for the difference.

A mound of resentment began to grow as Chuck recalled all the misgivings he had for the man in front of him.

"What a coincidence," he said through gritted teeth. "How _are_ you?"

Bryce smiled innocently at him, missing all the subtleties. "I'm good. Just dropped in from D.C.. There's an accountant's symposium happening this week. Thought I'd check it out."

Chuck nodded, clutching the bag in his hand just a little tighter. "Right," he said. "That's nice." Never one to start an argument, he thought he'd leave and be consoled by the fact he had a very beautiful and loving wife waiting for him.

Bryce frowned. "Whoa, Chuck!" he called out and followed after him. "What's going on?"

Chuck wrinkled his brows. It was moments like this that made him regret winning the so-called lottery to life. Moments that forced him to reevaluate his past and wonder what had exactly happened in those five mysterious years.

"Nothing," Chuck said with a slow shake of his head. "I just have to be somewhere."

Bryce tailed after him, as persistent as a bulldog. "Hey, I haven't seen you in almost two years and all I get is a 'how are you'?" He slapped his friend playfully on the shoulder. "Come on! What's been happening in your life?"

_Oh my God,_ Chuck thought as he realized the terrible truth. He was friends with Bryce Larkin. Chuck wondered how he could forgive this man for the monumental scale of betrayal he'd suffered.

"Um…I got married, made a game…" Chuck was still too confused to know where to begin. He'd dreamed of being able to boast in Bryce's face but now he only felt robbed. That confrontation probably happened a long time ago.

Bryce nodded. "Yeah, yeah I heard!" he said. "Fancy bumping into you here! I've been meaning to call." He ran his fingers through his sleek dark hair, something Chuck knew he tended to do when he felt nervous or unsure. The only question was why.

"So..." Bryce said, trying to prolong the conversation. His blue eyes were wide and brimming full of hope.

_Don't be a jerk,_ Chuck told himself. The man obviously wanted to talk and he knew he shouldn't have misgivings about something that had already been resolved without his knowledge.

"Do you want to come over and have dinner with my wife and I tonight?"

Bryce's smile broadened. "Really?" he asked, jumping at the chance. "Oh, that would be great! We have so much to catch up on."

Chuck nodded slowly, still holding some reservation. "Yeah. We sure do," he sighed.

_

Chuck knew he was late when he walked into the bank. Sarah was standing behind the last wicket on the left, engaged with a customer. He couldn't quite tell if she was bored or simply frustrated, but he knew from the smile she flashed him that she was grateful for a break.

"Mr. Bartowski, always nice to see you," one of Sarah's coworkers said as she passed him.

He gave a smile and a wave.

"You're a little late today, aren't you?" someone else teased, making him flush with embarrassment. He had no idea his coming and goings were so closely scrutinized. "Is there a sandwich for me in there?"

Chuck laughed. He made a mental note to bring lunch for everyone here someday. Sarah never had anything to say about her coworkers or work in general, so he couldn't be blamed for not being friendlier.

By the time Sarah approached, Chuck was in the middle of a rapport about the awful traffic on the interstate with one of the tellers. His lovely wife flashed him a look of annoyance and purposefully took his hand, pulling him ever so slightly away from the other woman.

Even if Chuck was oblivious, the woman caught the sign and stepped back.

"Nice speaking to you," she said and returned to her station. Sarah frowned at Chuck.

"What?" he asked, wishing she wouldn't look at him that way.

"You're late," she said, pulling him out of the building.

"I'm sorry." He rubbed her back, wondering why she still put up with a job that was so beneath her.

She hugged him close as they walked with an arm wrapped around one another to their usual lunch spot at the picnic tables behind the bank. Mondays were always rough; Chuck remembered, and he was sorry he couldn't have rescued her away earlier.

"I got your favorite…" He waved the sandwich in front of her, hoping to catch her attention. She smiled ruefully at him. "It's got extra pickles…"

She snatched it from him, finally allowing her true smile to shine underneath. "Thank you," she mouthed silently.

Chuck sighed with relief. He was forgiven…for now. "And it's not entirely my fault that I'm late. I ran into an old college buddy at the deli."

"Oh, Chuck, that's great!" she declared, returning to the Sarah he knew so well.

Chuck shrugged. It was rare for him to meet someone who didn't fall under the five year gap. If it hadn't been Bryce Larkin, he probably would have been more ecstatic.

"I kind of invited him over for dinner tonight. I hope that's okay."

Sarah winced. "We're going to torture him with our cooking?"

Chuck laughed. It was a petty revenge. "You sure you're okay with this?"

She tilted her head. "Of course. I've never met any of your college friends before." She smiled a wicked smile. "This should be interesting. What skeletons are you hiding in your closet, Mr. Bartowski?"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: This chapter is where it all__ really __ begins. This will also explain where I got the title from. Thanks for reading!  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter Three:

Chuck cheated and ordered take-out which he promptly transferred into pots and pans at home. Sarah was not fooled when she returned early from work, but he hoped Bryce would not be so observant. After all, not everyone was as astutely trained as she was.

At five sharp there was a knock at the door.

Chuck sighed. "That's him," he announced, shrugging off his apron.

Sarah grabbed his hand as he passed, frowning. "Why are you nervous?" she asked.

Chuck self-consciously wiped his palms on his pants. "I'm not."

She arched one perfectly shaped brow. "Chuck…" she warned, and crossed her arms.

Chuck blushed. His heart was beating fast and he knew he was going to stutter if he didn't take a deep breath. "He's always been _this_ guy, you know?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't know."

Chuck hesitated. No. Of course not. Sarah had probably been _that _girl. "He's always been that guy that every other guy looks up to. And I just don't want to feel like I'm living in his shadow anymore—"

"Chuck!" she admonished, a look of irritation briefly passing through her features. She sighed and hugged him tight. "You don't need to impress this guy, okay? And even if you wanted to, you don't have to _try_. He can't hold a candle to you." She kissed him tenderly, her eyes shining like the surface of the ocean. "When are you going to realize that?"

Chuck smiled, feeling a little better. "Lucky I have you here to remind me, huh?"

"Very lucky," she agreed, drawing him into another long kiss.

Chuck completely forgot about their guest until the knock sounded again.

"That said, will you help me look good?" he pleaded quietly.

Sarah narrowed her eyes just the slightest. "Are you asking me to be your trophy wife?"

Chuck gulped. "No!" he hissed. "Of course not."

Sarah winked as she gave him a push towards the door. "You're going to regret that, Mr. Bartowski."

_

"Sorry, didn't hear you there," Chuck lied as he let Bryce in. He was slightly disappointed to see that his old friend had changed out of his casual clothes and adopted an expensive suit for the occasion. His hair was sleek and gelled back and he stank of exotic cologne. It had only been thirty seconds and already Chuck felt inadequate in his sweat pants and t-shirt.

"You know we're eating in," he said as he took the proffered bottle of wine. It was a brand Chuck had never heard of, but he was sure the grapes had been hand-picked by monkeys and aged in a vat made of gold or something similar. Bryce had always found a way to stand out in the midst of normalcy.

The man smiled, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. "I know," he shrugged. "But it's been awhile and I wanted to dress nicely for your wife."

Chuck didn't know why, but the comment made him bristle.

_Stop it. He's just being polite_.

Chuck forced a smile and walked back into the kitchen.

"Honey?" he called, and tried to suppress a laugh as he saw Sarah with her back to them. She leaned over the stove, ladle in hand, looking as if she were hard at work. What a hypocrite, mocking him for ordering take-out.

"Yes, darling?" she called back sweetly. Chuck blushed; she was having way too much fun playing the role of domesticated housewife.

"Meet my old friend." Chuck looked to Bryce as he stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder. The blue-eyed man's expression of amusement faded and he stared into the kitchen in solemn silence.

"Bryce—" Sarah turned sharply around, the ladle dropping out of her hand. She sucked in a deep breath, her brows knotted with confusion. "Larkin," Chuck finished, shooting her a wary glance.

Sarah didn't say anything for the longest time. She could only stare at his friend, her eyes brooding with clouded thoughts. Chuck couldn't remember ever seeing her this way. What was it he saw in her eyes? Sadness? Surprise? Chuck had no idea and he thought he knew all her expressions.

Finally Sarah shook herself out of her daze and walked forwards. "Pleased to meet you," she said, her voice carrying the slightest waver. She held out her hand and Chuck saw that it was shaking.

Bryce cleared his throat and took it, holding it for a little longer than Chuck would have liked.

"Yeah, you too," he said. Something transpired between them; something Chuck had no part in. The thought of being an outcast in his own kitchen made him regret ever agreeing to let Bryce back into his life again.

Fears he'd never considered began to surface, and looking into Sarah's conflicted eyes, he could see that the horrors of Stanford were about to repeat themselves. And why not? They complimented one another, two beautiful individuals, overachievers, brilliant—

"Chuck?" Chuck didn't realize there was a hand on his shoulder until it was too late. Sarah was staring at him now. Bryce had already moved to the dining table, preparing to uncork the wine he'd brought.

"You okay?" she asked.

Chuck wanted to ask her the same. Her whole face was flushed but her hands were ice cold to the touch.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. He wasn't fooling anyone though.

Sarah lowered her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, okay," she said, absent-mindedly.

Chuck watched as she walked back to the stove to pick up the ladle she'd dropped earlier, wishing she had stayed and asked him to explain himself. It wasn't like her to ignore his feelings; she was usually persistent to a fault.

.

The three of them sat at the dinner table making awkward conversation. Chuck sat alone at the head of the table; his wife and friend sitting on either side of him, facing one another.

Chuck didn't want to admit that the tension in the room was nearly palpable, but he could almost see the sparks fly between Sarah and Bryce. How could he have been so foolish? Maybe when she hung around her coworkers and Morgan she found Chuck quite the catch, but he knew he couldn't compare to the debonair charm of Bryce Larkin.

Chuck wasn't so much nervous as he was disheartened. Instead of the usual babbling he was so apt to do, he found himself short on words and spoke in monosyllables only when spoken to.

Sarah sat on his right with the most intense expression imprinted on her face. The usual warmth in her eyes was gone and what replaced it was the deepest, most piercing shade of blue. Chuck had never seen her like this before and he didn't like it. This wasn't the Sarah he knew.

Only Bryce remained unaffected. He grinned and his manner of speech was as smooth as olive oil. He joked, told anecdotes from their Stanford days, and generally behaved as if nothing was amiss. After spending the first half hour filling them in on what he was up to, something or other about finances and accounting, he turned his attention to his friend.

"So, what are you up to these days, Chuck?" Bryce asked.

Chuck prodded his fork through the largely untouched plate in front of him. When he didn't answer, Bryce asked again.

"Not much," Chuck responded with a shrug. "Just stuff."

He realized he was being a terrible host. Bryce's easy manner was proof enough that they had made up and become friends again.

"And you, Sarah?" Bryce asked, somehow finding Chuck's response more than adequate. "What line of work at you in?"

Much to Chuck's dismay, he realized she hadn't taken her eyes off of his friend since he arrived. He had never seen her pay so much attention to anyone before.

Sarah stared at the man sitting across from her. "Banking," she said with a twisted smile.

Bryce smiled back, leaning forwards across the table. "That sounds awfully interesting."

"It is," she said, raising her chin just the slightest. "It's _fascinating_."

Chuck stared down at his plate, unwilling to witness the exchange that went on in front of his very eyes. If they were going to flirt with one another, they should at least have the grace to do it when he was out of sight.

"What brings you here, Mr. Larkin?" she asked, leaning forwards in her seat. "You're not a native of Los Angeles, I understand."

Bryce smiled in a way Chuck didn't like. "I'm here on business," he informed. "Only here for a couple days."

_Thank goodness_, Chuck thought. He stole a glance at Sarah but she didn't seem to notice. The only man she had eyes for tonight was Bryce Larkin.

Chuck pushed his chair back as he stood, causing it to squeak against the tiles. The sound was sharp enough to break the two from their unspoken bond.

"Well, I'll start cleaning up here," he said, grabbing his plate. For the first time since dinner, Sarah tore her eyes off of Bryce and stared up at Chuck. She grabbed his wrist, keeping him from taking the dish away.

"But you haven't eaten anything," she said softly. For a second he saw a glimmer of the woman he loved, but when Chuck didn't respond, that person faded.

"I'm not hungry," he said and she let go.

Chuck took the dishes away and piled them in the sink. For awhile there was no conversation as Sarah and Bryce stood to help him clear the table. He was hoping to catch Sarah alone so he could ask her exactly what her intentions were tonight, but she lingered by Bryce's side, unwilling to join her husband in the kitchen.

Chuck rarely felt the awful claws of jealousy, Sarah had never given him reason to, but tonight the green-eyed monster finally reared its ugly head. He groaned, wishing there could be another reason but the easiest assumption was usually the correct one. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as badly if it had been anyone besides Bryce Larkin, but the guy had already taken everything from him once. Was he really going to stand witness as it happened again?

_

Chuck went for a walk around the block, making an excuse of taking out the trash. Neither Sarah nor Bryce noticed him slip away.

The night air cut through his t-shirt, sending chills down his spine. He knew he couldn't leave for too long without raising suspicion, but he couldn't bear to watch her fall for another man in front of his very eyes.

This was all his doing. He was such an idiot.

_As if Bryce Larkin is the only man who's made eyes at your wife._

No. Of course not. Chuck trusted Sarah but for some reason, tonight was a different matter. There was something between them; that was undeniable. From the very first moment she saw Bryce she was affected.

He would never forget that look. Chuck wondered if she'd looked the same way when she first saw him. Could he ever take her breath away?

_Who are you kidding? _He was just an ordinary guy living out his ordinary life. Nothing he did would ever compare to the jet-setting lifestyle Bryce could offer.

_

Eventually Chuck returned to the apartment. The hallway was dark and the room was eerily quiet. He held his breath as he walked into the kitchen where his wife and friend stood, inches from the sink. Both of them looked a little worse for wear.

"Chuck!" Sarah cried, stepping away from Bryce. Her decision to distance herself made Chuck all the more aware of their prior proximity.

He couldn't help but notice that the dishes were still soaking in the sink. Whatever they'd been doing, they hadn't been cleaning up.

"Chuck, where'd you go?" Sarah asked, reaching for his cheek. Chuck flinched before she even touched him. He saw how it wounded her but the hurt that reflected in her eyes was only a fraction of his own feelings.

Sarah withdrew her hand. Her eyes were wide with bewilderment and her breaths came rapidly. There was a distinct flush to her cheeks that hadn't been there at dinner. All he needed now were traces of lip gloss on Bryce and he would have reason to denounce their friendship all over again.

"I went out," he said.

Sarah nodded absent-mindedly, accepting the answer for what it was--or better yet, she was preoccupied trying to catch her breath. Chuck wondered what circumstances he would have found them in if he had come a few minutes later.

He glared at her, commanding her to look up at him, but for once she wasn't able to hold her head up high. It only further cemented her guilt.

"Well it's getting late," Bryce said congenially. "I should get going."

Chuck found it difficult to speak. "Yes, you should," he choked, the most he could manage without adding something profane. Sarah turned her back to the both of them, refusing to look either in the eye. Bryce said nothing to Sarah and she didn't offer even the most basic goodbye.

"It was nice meeting you again, Chuck," Bryce said as he passed his friend. The look of triumph in his eyes was nearly enough to make Chuck throw a punch. "See you around?"

Chuck said nothing as he closed the door. He hoped he never saw Bryce Larkin ever again.

_

Chuck and Sarah prepared for bed in silence. There was no teasing tonight, no playfulness or banter, no asking what the day held tomorrow or goodnight kiss as they slipped under the covers.

Chuck just wanted to close his eyes and get the evening over with, as if it were a part of some awful dream. They turned down the lights and lay on opposite ends of the bed, staying purely on their sides tonight.

Sarah still hadn't mentioned anything about Bryce, allowing Chuck's imagination to fill in the details with the very worst. Chuck realized they had never in the last two years spent a night like this before. It felt awful. He felt like he'd already lost her.

"Is something bothering you, Chuck?" she asked softly, finally breaking the unspoken barrier between them. Chuck couldn't even turn his head to look at her. The nerve she had to ask a question like that.

"No," he said, lying outright. He didn't care if she saw through it; let her accuse him. "Is something bothering _you_?"

There was a pause. "No," she replied, an answer as honest as his had been. She turned her head and stared at him but Chuck refused to give in and face her. He just couldn't.

"A lot of women are attracted to Bryce," he finally said, giving her some way to explain herself. "He's got a lot to offer."

Sarah sat up in bed. In the darkness, Chuck had no idea what she was thinking when she looked over at him.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

Chuck paid no heed to the warning tone of her voice. "You were staring at him all night. Don't deny it." He sighed. "It's okay," he said, despite himself. It was anything but okay. "I get it. I told you, he's the kind of guy that all guys look up to."

The silence was so prolonged Chuck could hear Sarah draw in a sharp breath.

"I can see why some women would be attracted to him, but not me," she said flatly. A pause. "Did you hear me, Chuck?"

Chuck grunted. He wished he could believe her, but he'd seen the look on her face. He was about to bring up what he saw in the kitchen, but just the thought of his wife giving herself to Bryce Larkin consumed him with anger and resentment.

Sarah didn't say anything more and they fell in silence once again with their backs to one another. Chuck sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

When Chuck opened his eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was already cold and empty. He padded down the hall into the kitchen, noticing right away that Sarah's bag and car keys weren't in their usual place. The only evidence he had that she'd been there that morning was a note on the fridge.

_I'm sorry. Last night was a mistake. Call me. _She had signed the note with an 'L' and then her name. Chuck wasn't one to analyze things, but the fact she hadn't been able to complete the four-lettered word haunted him. Was she really in such a hurry she couldn't have written the whole thing out, or had she made a conscious decision not to?

_

Waking up two hours too early left Chuck with little to do. Without any distractions, he left the house in under fifteen minutes, appropriately dressed for work with coffee in hand and armed with the week's grocery list. He might as well do something productive while he wallowed in self-pity.

The supermarket was eerily quiet, and Chuck took his time hunting each item down, navigating the near desolate aisles like an explorer in search of lost treasure.

He was in the freezer aisle trying to decide between a package of green beans and string beans when he noticed that he was being watched. The woman in question was a willowy brunette with sleek umber hair. When she realized she had his attention, she smiled and sauntered over to him, strutting like a model down a runway.

"Hello, Chuck," she said, her voice as thick as honey. "Miss me?"

Chuck blinked. "Excuse me?" He tried to distract himself by picking a bag of green beans and tossing it into the cart but when he looked back, she was still there.

The woman laughed though she did not look amused. In fact, she looked like a woman who found little humor in life. Her ochre eyes reminded him of a tigress, and in all honesty, her stature, her demeanor, everything about her, frightened him a little.

"It's okay, Chuck. I know you don't remember." She tilted her head, bemused by his incredulous expression. "But we used to _work_ together."

Chuck gulped. He wondered if he had always felt this uncomfortable in her presence. He was sure even Carmen, the short-fuse she was, would have held her tongue in this instance.

"Do you understand?" she asked, sounding out the syllables.

Chuck was mildly offended but he didn't dare show it. "Yes," he said meekly.

The woman smiled and proffered her hand. "My name is Camille," she introduced. Chuck had no choice but to shake hands with her, meeting with her iron-clad grip.

"Nice meeting you…Camille," he said. "You also enjoy grocery shopping at the crack of dawn?"

The strange woman was mirthless. "No. I came to find you," she said. She grabbed his arm and squeezed to the point of making Chuck wince. "You need to trust me. We have to go."

Chuck laughed nervously, trying to pry her vice-like fingers off of him. "Oh?" he asked. "Really? Why?"

Camille only gripped harder. "You're life is in danger," she said, hissing the words into his ear. Her breath felt like steam burning his eardrum. "We have to leave now!"

Chuck panicked. "Leave? Leave where?" He jumped back, finally breaking free from her.

"Now!" she snapped. "Somewhere safe!"

Chuck took another step back, preparing himself for a possible escape. "Okay…" he whispered, under his breath. "Okay…" He blinked, wondering if this was all real. He pinched himself and it hurt. "Okay. I need to call Sarah."

He reached into his pocket but Camille stopped him before he could punch the number.

"No." She twisted his wrist, forcing him to let go of his cell. "You can't tell Sarah about this. Sarah can't know."

Chuck frowned. "Why not?" he demanded. "It's okay. I trust her."

"No," Camille said forcefully. "Sarah's a liar. She's not to be trusted."

The pent-up frustrations of yesterday piled onto today's, and Chuck felt like he was losing his grip. He had restrained from striking Bryce but this woman was really pushing him. Who was she to make these kinds of accusations?

"I trust Sarah," he repeated and as he did, an inkling of doubt crept into his thoughts. He pushed it aside, unwilling to acknowledge that his wife would ever deceive him, going so far as to blindly disregard the events of the night before.

"Everything that woman says is a lie," Camille warned. "About her work. About the people in her life. Everything. _Everything_ is a lie."

_No._ Chuck heard himself scream on the inside, but the voice was growing weaker and weaker. How would he ever know?

"I trust Sarah," he repeated, clenching his fists together. "You don't know anything."

Camille folded her arms and sighed. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking more annoyed than concerned. "Fine," she spat. "You'll see."

Chuck was surprised by how easily she gave up and it only filled him with more dread. Was his life really in danger? Did he really need to leave now?

Their conversation over, Chuck regained his senses. _Enough of this._ He still had work to go to. Still had groceries to buy.

He steered the shopping cart towards the checkout though his eyes were still trained on Camille. She made no move to follow him but the look she gave him was so self-assured, as if she knew she was right.

"Don't tell Sarah anything," she warned with a parting smile. "We'll be in touch."

Chuck looked down for only a second to check his cell, but when he looked back up, she was gone. Like an illusion; _poof!_ and then nothing.

"Sir?" Chuck stared at the space where Camille had just been. "Sir?"

Chuck realized someone was speaking to him. He turned to the cashier and smiled apologetically.

"Are you alright, sir?" the young man asked.

Chuck pulled out his wallet and pretended to search for his credit card, stalling just long enough to avoid answering because in all honesty, he had no idea.

_

Chuck returned home that afternoon, surprised to find the lights in the hall already flicked on. Sarah was almost never home early.

"Sarah?" he called out, setting his work on the coffee table. The blond-haired woman stepped out of the kitchen, a vision of domestic havoc. There were smears of white powder on her face and hair and the apron draped over her front was covered in stains of all colors.

Sarah…cooking? This was strange indeed.

"Hey, Chuck," she greeted, sounding slightly breathless. Her eyes darted nervously back towards the stove and she disappeared from view.

Chuck walked cautiously into the kitchen where he could see she'd had quite the afternoon. The entire kitchen counter was covered in food, both cooked and raw. He couldn't quite figure out what she was trying to create but it looked complicated.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, wrinkling his brows. He smiled, very much amused. Sarah usually oozed confidence in everything she did, but the minute she donned an apron, it was as if she'd lost her mind.

"Nothing. I just wanted to," she said, covering the pot with a lid just as he caught up to her. "No peeking!"

Chuck smiled despite the unsettling dread that came from his apprehensive gut. If her looks didn't kill him, then her cooking most surely would.

He brushed her face gently, dusting away the streaks of flour. Sarah's eyes grew sad as she stared up at him.

"You didn't call me today."

That's right. He'd forgotten. Chuck had tried so hard to forget the incident at the supermarket that he completely forgot about the note.

He swallowed guiltily. There were so many things he didn't want to think about right now.

"I thought we were going to have lunch together." She looked warily up at him, confidence fading from her voice. "Did you get my note?"

He nodded, trying not to remember the reason she'd written it.

Sarah stroked his face ever so gently, her long fingers meandering up into his hair. It felt so good but Chuck couldn't take it; not now. He stopped her and held her hand back, returning it to her side.

The gesture was not lost on either of them. Sarah's eyes clouded with turmoil. She licked her chapped lips, and looked down at the ground.

"How was work?" he asked, sticking to a neutral topic.

"Fine," she said with a shrug, and turned so she had her back to him.

Chuck stuck his hands into his pockets. He stared at her outline, his eyes tracing the delicate angle of her shoulder bone and the slender profile of her neck. Two nights ago they would have never been like this. He would have come home first. They would have made dinner together. Work would have been the last thing on their minds. And he most certainly would not have to stare at his wife this way, knowing that she was closing him off.

"Anything interesting?" he probed, Camille's words ringing in his ear. _Everything…everything is a lie. _He always did think she was too good for work as a teller.

"No," she sighed, her voice shaking. He caught both the pause before her answer and the sharp intake of breath after. Something was wrong. Everything in words unspoken told him so.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" he pressed.

She turned to face him, her eyes more reflective than usual. He tilted his head slightly and noticed how they looked wetter than they should.

"No," she whispered. "You?"

Chuck was tempted to tell her about Camille but he'd been warned. He wanted to believe Sarah but at this very moment, he knew he was being lied to. She wasn't telling him something.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. He'd never lied to her before, and his face constricted with the guilt of the deed.

She nodded and put on a smile but it was only a fraction of what he was used to. "Do you want to set the dishes? I'm almost done here."

Chuck stared at her. Was that it? Were they just going to pretend that Bryce Larkin never happened into their lives?

He grabbed her waist before she could turn back to face the stove. "I love you," he uttered. Sarah flinched, not expecting the declaration nor the sudden way he held her.

Chuck wished he had the ability to pull the fog from her eyes and see what was really deep inside, but her walls were impenetrable. This was new to him. Sarah never used to hide things from him.

"I know," she whispered and turned away.

Chuck didn't know what hurt more, knowing that he was being lied to or that she didn't return the sentiment.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hello lovely readers, thank you for __all __the reviews and comments, i will certainly take them into consideration when i write. Concerns have been raised about Sarah's characterization but remember that i haven't written in her POV since the first chapter so don't rush to take chuck's side =P _

_Before you read the following chapter, just know that everything is for a reason and i'm not throwing characters __out __purely to see how much angst i can squeeze out of this story. _

_

* * *

_Chapter 5:

Chuck stared mindlessly at the computer screen in front of him. He had closed the door to his office, something he rarely ever did, but even so the laughter emitting from the hallway was impossible to escape. He usually didn't mind when his staff goofed around, but today he couldn't stand it.

_You're not being fair_.

Chuck sighed. Of course not. Just because he wasn't happy didn't mean others couldn't be.

_Everyone hits a rough patch…_

Chuck refused to accept that. Him and Sarah weren't like everyone else. He liked to think that they were something more; fated, destined, soul-mates, whatever Hallmark catch-phrase people liked to sprinkle around these days. They never fought, never argued for longer than fifteen minutes and most certainly never let a problem fester for this long.

Sarah was upset about something and she wasn't going to touch it with a five foot pole. Chuck had no idea, they never talked about the past. This habit of dodging around had worked for them for the last two years, but as he had come to realize, there was only so far you could drift on the waters before you began to search for the shoreline.

Chuck's eyes drifted from the screen to the photo on his desk. He brought it closer, cradling the frame in his hands. She had looked so beautiful that day, even more so standing beside a funny-looking nerd like him. At the time he thought he'd heard someone call his name and turned his head at the last second, causing him to look inattentive and aloof. It was unfortunate this shot also happened to be his favorite photo of Sarah. She hated posing for the camera, that he knew, so it was rare for him to see that kind of a smile on paper.

Suddenly Chuck's phone rang and he jumped in his seat. He reached for the cell, hoping to see a picture of Sarah appear on the screen, only to be disappointed by the blank ID.

Unknown caller.

"Hello?"

"Chuck?"

Chuck frowned, the voice was familiar. He strained his memory, trying to figure out who could be on the other end.

"Yes, speaking," he responded warily.

"Chuck! Chuck Bartowski!" the female voice repeated, more excited now than before.

"Yes, that's me," Chuck replied, still unsure who he was speaking to. Whoever it was, she clearly knew him.

There was a pause. "It's me! Jill!"

Chuck choked on room air. His heart beat out of his chest and he went into full panic mode, slipping out of his chair and falling to the ground with a loud thud.

"Jill!" he croaked. "Oh my gosh, of course!" He heard her laugh on the other end. "This…this is such a surprise!" he uttered, laughing nervously.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe!_ he begged as he climbed back to his seat. _Just breathe. Be cool. Stay calm. _

"I know! Well you said if I was ever in town again I should give you a call. Remember?"

Chuck held his breath as he squeezed his stress-ball. No, he didn't. First Bryce, now Jill. He wondered if he should call up the bully from his elementary school days. Maybe they'd reconciled too.

"Well that's great," Chuck said, praying she would fill in the awkward silence.

"Yeah, listen I've got some time this afternoon. Do you want to catch up? Have coffee?"

Chuck hesitated. His eyes flashed to the bottom of the monitor. It was getting close to lunch and he was still holding out on the chance Sarah would call. Then again, having spent another long night in silence, she probably didn't have much to say to him.

"Sure, sounds good."

_

Chuck wondered how well he got along with Jill. Did they have coffee often? Inevitably, his mind wanders back to the years of agony she had put him through. How had he forgiven her? Had she apologized with tears in her eyes, had she begged him to come back, or had Chuck simply swept the past under the rug?

It was hard to imagine Jill pleading for anything after forgetting him so easily and remaining out of contact five years after Stanford. As he sat in the café waiting for her to show, he wondered if he would even recognize her. How many years had it been…ten? He whistled, an entire decade. Even the sound of it made him feel old.

Then the bell above the door sounds and she walks in, carrying with her a fresh breeze of air. In an instant Chuck remembers everything, every painful memory he'd long suppressed or thought he'd forgotten down to the number of freckles on her face (four), the scent of her hair (just like clementine's) and the shade of her eyes (the same tone as Cadbury's milk chocolate bars).

She smiles as she walks over to him and takes the adjacent seat, but not before kissing him on both cheeks. The gesture takes him off guard and he wonders if he's already behaving like a fool. The plain golden band on his left hand glares at him, making him smart for even looking twice in her direction.

"Chuck!" she says in a breathless sigh and smiles broadly at him. He smiles back, wondering if the expression was as goofy as it felt. She hadn't changed at all. She was still the same Jill he had fallen head over heels for…his first real love, real kiss—

_And the first girl to tear your heart into a million pieces and stomp through the shreds with her stiletto heels. _

Chuck gulped. Right. That.

"I haven't seen you in so long, Chuck," she said. "How are you?" She clasped his hand and held it, looking deep into his eyes. Chuck's heart began to beat fast, so fast he was afraid the room might be spinning a little.

They must have been _close_.

"I'm good. Good." He nodded his head, still afraid to look her in the eye. He withdrew his hands and hid them under the table. If he allowed her to hold them any longer, she would realize just how nervous he really was. "Um…I got married."

He watched Jill carefully but her expression remained the same and she only nodded. "I heard. Congrats." It was nonchalant but a touch too blasé for someone who kissed him in greeting and held his hand.

"And you?" he paused, wondering if he was being stupid. "You and Bryce…"

Jill frowned and Chuck instantly realized he had said the wrong thing. For the first time, Jill's eyes lost their warmth and her smile retreated behind a grim look. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "Not for a very long time now," she added.

"Right," Chuck said quickly. "Sorry, forgot!" He laughed nervously and took a large gulp of coffee, only to realize caffeine was the last thing he needed.

"Um…" He coughed on the scalding drink. "What do you do now?"

Jill tilted her head, frowning. "Still the same thing," she said.

Chuck groaned inwardly, wondering what that was. He looked over her attire but it gave him no clues. She was dressed casually, obviously not for work.

"I really missed you, Chuck," she said again, the second time in the last five minutes. "I didn't know if I would ever see you again."

Chuck bit his lips. What did that mean? Had they ended on a bad note?

"Well here I am!" he exclaimed, laughing through gritted teeth. He wanted to smack himself, he was such a dork.

Jill smiled and shook her head slowly.

"So…what have you been up to?"

Jill shrugged. "Not too much," she said, still staring at him. "I've been kind of _tied up_." She smirked and Chuck wondered what she meant by that. He laughed at the inside joke he didn't really understand, making Jill furrow her brows.

"Wow…" she gasped. "You really did it. You've lost your memory."

Chuck jumped in his seat. His eyes widened and the adrenaline shot through his system. All at once he felt his body surge with electricity, enough to make his limbs quake, itching to escape.

"How…" He couldn't even put it in words. "How…"

"I know," Jill said. Simple as that. Her smile took on a melancholy quality. "Chuck," she said, the tone of her voice growing grave. "You are in danger."

She leaned on the table with her elbows, getting right in his face. "Chuck. Did you hear me?" she whispered. "You are in serious danger. You need to come with me."

Chuck frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked. This was getting out of hand.

"Camille tried to contact you but you wouldn't listen. You need to come with me now before it's too late."

Chuck shook his head. He refused to believe it. "No," he said. "It's not true."

Jill's eyes darkened. "I'm serious."

"I am too," Chuck warned. "Sarah wouldn't do that."

The brunette shook her head. "You don't know, Sarah," she said. "You don't know anything about her."

Chuck stood up. He had heard enough. He was going to call Sarah now and he was going to tell her everything. She would tell him the truth. She would set the record straight.

"Wait!" Jill ran up to him and held his hand, her grip surprisingly forceful. "Okay, you don't believe me?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "I'll prove it to you."

_

A terrible feeling grew in the pit of Chuck's gut as Jill dragged him the four blocks to Sarah's workplace. The fact Jill knew where his wife worked already roused suspicion. It meant they knew each other, even though Sarah had never mentioned it before.

They stopped at the building doors. Chuck grabbed the handle but Jill slapped his hand away.

"We're not going in," she said. She nodded towards the service counter and Chuck stepped forwards, putting his face right up against the glass. Sarah wasn't there.

"Do you see her?" Jill asked. She didn't even take a glance which meant she knew Sarah wouldn't be.

"What's your point?"

Jill pointed to his coat pocket. "Call her. Ask her where she is right now."

Chuck gulped. She was so confident, so sure of herself, just like Camille. It seemed everyone knew something but him.

His hand reached for the phone but he hesitated to dial the numbers he'd memorized by heart. What if Jill was right? What then?

_She could be wrong. She could be bluffing_.

Then why was Chuck so afraid?

"Call her," Jill repeated, looking at him intently.

Chuck put the phone to his ear, praying she wouldn't pick up. Maybe she left her phone on silent as he often did, maybe she'd left it behind while she went on break—

"Hello?"

Chuck felt his breath catch in his chest as he heard her speak. Usually she answered with his name, or some sort of endearment, never anything so detached and informal as a simple 'hello'.

"Hey…honey," he said, smiling weakly while trying to avoid Jill's gaze. "What-what are you doing right now?"

There was a pause. Chuck could barely hear her but he couldn't be sure if it was the traffic beside him or something from her end. "I can't talk right now," she said. Her voice was so distant, so cold; he wondered if it was still Sarah on the other end.

"Oh. Well it's around lunch and I thought maybe I could—"

"No," she said, cutting him off. She sighed audibly into the phone. "I'm with someone right now. I have to work. I can't talk."

Chuck pressed his forehead against the glass, peering at Sarah's coworkers. "At the counter?"

She sounded annoyed. "Of course, where else?"

Stupid question, or in this case, the million-dollar conundrum. Where else could she be?

"Sarah?" he asked, staring at the space where she should be but was not. He would not allow himself to be consumed by despair in front of Jill. He was not going to let Jill see how pathetic he was.

"What?" she said, sounding impatient.

Chuck swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. "I love you," he whispered, out of earshot of anyone else.

Silence. "I have to go."

Then the line went dead.

Chuck turned his head slowly towards Jill. She frowned though there was no denying the triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said.

"Yeah," Chuck sighed. "Me too."

* * *

_I know Jill is no fun to read, but strangely she is a lot of fun to write. __Reviews are always appreciated =) _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5:

Sarah hid in her office like the coward she was. She wasn't even pretending to work anymore; the files were tucked away in the filing cabinet, buried under the rest of the paperwork she hadn't gotten around to.

The only thing laid out on her desk was her cell-phone. For the last hour it was all she could stare at. If she wished hard enough, would it ring?

Sarah's eyes darted to the photograph on her table. She gazed at it, her eyes welling with tears at the thought of the last few nights, and set it face down, unable to face even a still image of him.

Like the storage closet people shoved all their junk into when the in-laws came for a visit, Sarah had piled the secrets in until the door wouldn't close. Everything dangled on a precipice, and Bryce's ill-timed appearance had been too much.

What should she have done instead? The darker days of their relationship, the sad things you look back on and feel relieved to have gotten past, every hardships and heartbreaks, it was all supposed to go away.

Sarah responded out of instinct, closing herself off and trying to contain the damage before it could spread. But she could see now she was no longer as good at hiding her emotions as she once was. Chuck read her like an open book; and it changed him. He'd been polluted, her resentment and frustrations spilling over onto him.

Chuck didn't look at her the same way anymore; his gaze had lost its tenderness. When he looked at her she saw her conscience being reflected in those once loving eyes. His touch had become brief and fleeting, more an accident than something purposeful.

_You need to tell him._

Sarah sighed. This couldn't be allowed to go on for any longer. If she was going to be with Chuck, then there could be no more lies, not even the white ones. She was going to be completely honest with him, even about the hideous color of his favorite sweater.

Summoning the resolve didn't mean she dreaded it any less. Where was she going to begin? Should she start with Bryce and how she was still working for the agency, or did she need to go deeper and relive every awful event in their shared past?

Would he understand? Would he hate her for what she's done?

Her conscience was getting tired of the excuses. _Just shut up and tell him_.

Tonight. She would tell him everything tonight.

Suddenly the phone came to life and she snatched it off her desk. Her excitement came to a halt though, when she realized it wasn't who she wanted it to be.

Unknown caller.

"Hello?" she asked, holding onto the slim chance Chuck was calling on a payphone.

"Sarah."

Sarah's hopes crashed and she clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth until it hurt. "You have a lot of nerve to call," she hissed.

The voice on the other end ignored the tone. "We need to talk."

"Like hell," she snarled. "Tell me now or save your breath—"

"It's not my fault," the man said. "You went along with it."

_He's right,_ her conscience chimed. _You should have been honest. _

Sarah reached for a pencil, pen, ruler—anything she could snap into little pieces without remorse.

"You didn't give me a choice."

"You had two years."

Sarah held her tongue, unwilling to disclose the extent of his damage. She wasn't going to admit that Chuck and her were barely speaking. That she hadn't slept well for the last two nights. That she'd nearly cried when her coworkers asked why her husband hadn't come for lunch.

No. None of that. She wasn't going to tell him what he wanted to hear.

"We need to talk. There's a bistro two blocks from your work. Murietta's. I'll see you in fifteen."

The call ended before Sarah could protest.

_Damn it!_ she swore and slammed the phone down so hard it bounced off the table and onto the floor. She had been hoping Chuck would call for lunch. She glanced at the clock, realizing with despair that it was well past the usual time. Had he forgotten again or was it purposeful this time?

Sarah wondered what he was up to. Chuck couldn't be too busy, Morgan was out of town and he said he didn't want to make any plans without his partner. Which left the much likelier and far worse scenario.

Sarah couldn't face another day of questions from her coworkers. Husband or no husband, she was going out for lunch.

_

Murietta's was a congested upscale bistro squashed between an organic goods store and a French-themed bakery. So many things about it screamed pretentious before she even got through the door, and yet it was so Bryce. Sophisticated, worldly, and just a touch too arrogant for its own good.

It was a hotspot, and the lunch hour rush made Sarah feel like the extra sardine in an already packed tin. Did Bryce choose this place because he was afraid she'd try to take him down a few notches again? She flexed her hands, the knuckles still sore from two nights ago. Her only regret was that Chuck had interrupted them when he did, otherwise Bryce would have sported some rather attractive bruises today.

Sarah scowled as she threw her bag into the vacant booth, sliding into her seat across from Bryce. She knew in an instant that she had his attention.

"What do you want?" she demanded, slapping her hand onto the cool metal surface. Caught red-handed—or eyed in this instance, Bryce had no choice but to tear his eyes from the low neckline of her blouse.

His frosty blue eyes lit up with amusement. "You came."

At one time the look may have caused her heart to beat a little faster, but all she wanted today was to exorcise him from her life as fast as possible, preferably before her lunch break ended.

"What do you want, Bryce?" she repeated, allowing exhaustion to creep into her voice.

"I needed to see you," he said. Sarah swallowed slowly, sliding her hand away from the table just as his began to creep forwards.

"We had our closure."

Bryce's eyes darkened. "No," he said. "_You_ had yours, I didn't."

Sarah glared at him. Was this what it was really about? "Why now? Why not two years ago when I quit?"

A smirk broke over his chiseled features. "You never quit," he accused, raising his brows.

Sarah ground her teeth. He knew what she meant. "If you wanted to see me, you shouldn't have contacted Chuck."

Bryce shook his head. "He's my friend, Sarah, my only friend."

"If he was your friend, you wouldn't have come back into his life. If Chuck had his memories—"

"Chuck doesn't," Bryce said defiantly. He passed over the menu, his eyes melting with warmth. "What would you like?"

Sarah ignored the sheet he held hovering in the air. She hated how easily he could switch faces, going from mindless agent to perfect gentleman in the snap of a finger.

"I'm not hungry," she said, crossing her arms. "If Chuck had his memories, he would have never invited you into our home. You're always after something, Bryce, so what is it this time?"

Bryce clasped his hands together, brows raised at her accusation. She knew that look. He was beat but didn't want to admit it.

"I can't believe you did this to yourself," he said, shaking his head. What thoughts he held back in his eyes she didn't know, but she didn't need his pity or judgment. "You were amazing and you weren't even at your prime. You had so much potential." He tilted his head, peering at her like a scientist to a specimen. "Do you ever get bored? Restless?" Sarah looked away. It was as if he could read her thoughts. "Do you ever wish it could be you in those reports? Admit it, you miss it. Guns blazing, danger all around you, adrenaline rushing through your veins—"

Sarah glared at him.

Bryce stopped promptly. He knew he had gone far enough.

She wondered if she was losing her touch. Everything he said was true, but even the thought of leaving Chuck flooded her unfaithful heart with guilt. She couldn't.

"I'd never make you feel bad," Bryce said, surprising the woman with his insight. "I would never make you sacrifice a part of yourself for me. I would never make you become someone else." He grabbed her hand, gripping onto it like a lifeline. "What Chuck did was selfish."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Not trying to cause a scene, she extracted herself from his hold with the least amount of force necessary but it felt something akin to wrenching a screw out of the foundations.

"Don't you ever say that again," she warned, her voice nearly drowned out by the din of those around her. Even so, the danger in her threat spoke volumes. "Chuck is the most understanding and forgiving human being I have ever met. Your so-called friendship is proof of his generosity."

She leaned in close but the barely suppressed fury in her eyes repelled the man, pushing him up against the backboard. "He gave up five years of his life for me, so don't you ever, _ever_, say that again."

Before Sarah could add anything else, her phone began to sound. Annoyed she would have to cut this confrontation short, she tore her eyes away from her victim and dug through her bag.

Staring at the caller ID, she nearly considered letting it go to voice mail but his beautiful smile stopped her. Bryce watched carefully, curious to see who it was.

Sarah flipped open her cell and put it to her ear, all the while staring straight ahead.

"Hello?" she asked, keeping her tone casual. Bryce stared at her, a hint of a grin on his lips.

Was she that obvious? _You're getting bad at this_.

"Hey…honey," she heard Chuck say on the other end. Sarah nearly sighed with relief; she missed him so much. "What-what are you doing right now?"

Sarah surveyed her crowded surroundings. There was no chance of her finding a quiet corner.

"I can't talk right now," she said, shooting daggers at the man across from her. For a spy, he was terrible at reading body language. Did he not understand the concept of privacy?

"Oh. Well it's around lunch and I thought maybe I could—"

She had waited all day for this call and here was Bryce Larkin, keeping her from what she wanted most.

_What else is new? _

Sarah felt like she was being examined under the microscope; Bryce watched her, reading into every wrinkle in her brow and frown at her lips. She hated being analyzed.

"No," she said, cutting Chuck off before he could tempt her any further. She sighed, wishing she could explain everything to him. "I'm with someone right now. I have to work. I can't talk."

_Liar_.

Sarah groaned. It was the easiest explanation.

_Still lying. _

"At the counter?" he asked, sounding a little surprised.

Sarah wrinkled her brows. She noticed Bryce take that into account. He smirked a little; her vexation with Chuck was something that pleased him.

"Of course, where else?" The harsh tone in which she spoke was meant for Bryce but there was no way for her husband to know.

She instantly regretted taking out her anger on him when he called out her name hesitantly, like a puppy dog with his tail between his legs.

She frowned. It was so hard to hear in the restaurant. "What?" she asked, glaring at Bryce. For once, the man took the hint and looked away, pretending for a second that he wasn't eavesdropping.

"I love you."

Sarah lost her breath. Tears began to smart in her eyes and she could see she had Bryce's attention again.

_I love you too._ She closed her eyes, steadying her breaths.

"I have to go," she said instead and quickly closed the phone. She took a deep breath to calm herself before she opened her eyes again. "Chuck is a hundred times the man you are." She stared at Bryce, point blank. "This conversation is over."

Sarah picked up her bag and slid out of the booth. Her hands shook as it covered the cell. She flipped it back open, entering the numbers to Chuck's cell deftly with her thumb.

"Sarah, wait!" Bryce chased after her, pulling her back. His grip was insistent and strong, and when he yanked on her arm, she nearly flew into the table.

"Get out of my way," she warned, tensing every muscle in her body. Bryce pinned her down, holding her back.

"We have a problem," he said. He was serious now. No charming smile or disarming blue-eyes, only urgency in his eyes. "Jill's escaped."

* * *

_..._

_So...__is Sarah forgiven? As always, I'd to hear what you think. _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: __According to you guys the only likeable person in this story is chuck, so here is another in his POV.  
_

* * *

Chapter 7:

Chuck walked with his hands in his pockets. Where? He didn't know. They were just walking. Just two normal people with ordinary lives taking a stroll down the sidewalk.

_Yeah right. What a joke. _

"Chuck, are you alright?" Jill asked, stroking his arm. Chuck shied away, moving to the edge of the pavement where the cement met with the grass.

"Yeah. Yeah, just fine," he said with a shrug that seemed more like a neurotic twitch. "Just fine."

Jill frowned. She trained her eyes on him but all Chuck could see was how they were the exact same shade as Sarah's favorite chocolates.

"I understand," she said. "You loved her."

Chuck bristled at her use of past tense. He was upset, yes, but that didn't change how he felt about his wife.

Jill approached him again. "I know you don't remember, but I loved you too." She pulled him close, looping her arm through the crook of his elbow as she rested her head against his shoulder. To the unassuming bystanders, it was an intimate moment between two lovers. "I never believed that you would steal those exams. It killed me to have to break it off with you."

She stopped him from taking another step and brought his face down close to hers. "You don't remember, I know, so just trust me." She shook her head, her eyes welling with traces of tears. "I never slept with Bryce. The only man I've ever cared about is you."

They were so close now their eyelashes almost tangled. Her rapid breaths heated his skin, making it burn with indiscretion. Why did she have to say those words now? Why couldn't she have said them years ago when it mattered?

But as she spoke again, he realized they did still matter.

"Chuck, please," she begged, her eyes so wide and innocent. "Please, trust me."

In so little as three words, Chuck felt himself grow weak under her spell. He had always had a soft spot for her; even after everything she'd done, he could never bring himself to hate her completely. Like the early days with Sarah, there was a sense of familiarity he felt with Jill. And her words...they felt familiar too.

Had she said them to him before?

Did that mean it was real?

_If only I knew. _

Chuck closed his eyes and wrenched free from her grip. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck or that his hair had been set on fire. It was just a feeling he had. Something terrible and awful, a gnawing frustration that ate him from the inside out.

He hated this. He really hated this.

"Chuck?"

He wanted to scream but fear of attention kept his mouth shut. He bottled his frustrations instead, chewing on his lower lip until it bled.

He needed to get away. He needed to get out of here.

"Chuck!" Jill cried in alarm, chasing after him. It only made Chuck walk faster.

"We got back together, Chuck. We were happy."

Chuck rubbed his hands together, twisting the golden band over and over again until he was afraid he would twist the entire thing off, finger and all.

"You're lying," he said. "I was with Sarah the whole time."

Jill ran beside him, grabbing his arm to slow him down. "Not the whole time," she said. She stared at him, daring him to say otherwise. "We got back together while she was gone."

_When? When did this happen?_ Chuck gulped. "Gone? Where?"

Jill stopped in her tracks, letting her hand slip from his arm. Chuck noticed the change immediately and walked back to where she stood.

"Where did she go, Jill?"

Jill's lower lip trembled and she had tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. "I only wanted you to be happy, Chuck. I'd do anything if it made you happy."

Chuck didn't know what to say. Her emotions were so raw; how could he doubt her?

"You don't deserve to be with someone like her," she said; a bold declaration. "I'd give you up to anyone better, but not her."

The words hurt. "Where, Jill?" he repeated, resisting the urge to shake the answer out of her.

Jill closed her eyes, allowing the tears that had collected to fall down her cheeks. Chuck once had the callousness to think he would feel triumphant to see his cheating ex in such a state, but not anymore. He searched his pockets for a napkin but when he found none, he used his thumb instead.

Jill looked up at him, her lips trembling with the secret.

"Bryce," she uttered.

The name drove a nail into Chuck's heart. No.

"Bryce Larkin," she repeated, and the name hurt no less the second time around. "She went away with him."

The image was like a slow poison crawling through his veins, setting his entire body on fire. It was terrible; the pain was unimaginable, a thousand times worse than Stanford. The real killer though, was the familiarity of Jill's words.

"Sarah and Bryce?" Chuck asked, doing everything he could to hold himself together. Bryce was in on this too? Was everyone in his life a spy? Should he call Ellie and Awesome and check with them too?

"I'm sorry," Jill said, leaving no doubt that the two had been involved romantically. "She probably never thought you needed to know."

Chuck's thoughts raced back to the evening two nights ago when Sarah had greeted Bryce as a stranger. Neither had said anything; playing him like a fool.

He was a fool. Such a fool. Only now did he understand. Those looks across the table, Sarah's sudden detachment, it all made sense.

"Sarah never said anything," he said numbly. "He was standing right there in front of us and she never said a thing."

Jill's head snapped in his direction. "What?" she gasped. "You've seen Bryce?"

"Well…yeah," he said, admitting the fact with great reluctance. "He came over for dinner two nights ago." Worst idea he'd ever had.

Jill did a quick surveillance of their surroundings. Without warning she grabbed onto Chuck's hand and began to walk, yanking hard on his arm.

"We have to go," she said, her voice losing all its sadness and warmth in one fell breath.

"Go where?"

"Leave. We need to leave."

Jill was a head shorter than Chuck but she walked so fast that he was the one who was running to catch up with her. "Okay, Jill, slow down. Explain this to me. We can't just run away."

Jill looked at him, unfazed by his words. "That's exactly what we need to do," she said. "My car's in the parkade. I've got a full tank of gas. Don't worry, I have this."

"No! No!" he told her. Chuck put his foot down and shook free of Jill's hold. "This is crazy! I need to go back and talk to Sarah. I can't just leave like this."

Jill's eyes flashed with fury. "How can you still trust her after all these lies?" she demanded. Her anger alarmed him, and it made him realize he had never truly seen the depths of her rage. "What is wrong with you? She's not who you think she is. She can't be trusted."

Chuck looked down the long stretch of road. They'd walked a long distance from Sarah's bank—not that she was there. He had no idea where she was.

"Chuck!" Jill screamed. "We need to leave!"

Chuck just stared on. He couldn't do this. "Okay," he finally said. Jill was like a bulldog, once she wanted something; she was going to have it. Ten years had taught him that much, even if he didn't remember half of it. "I'll _walk_ you to your car."

Jill's shoulders relaxed and she allowed a smile to appear on her face. In her haste, she failed to hear the emphasis. "Good, let's go."

She held out her hand, wholly expecting Chuck to take it.

"To your car," he clarified.

Jill was yanking on his arm again, walking as fast as her legs could carry her. "Yes, to my car."

Chuck held his breath, wondering if there was any hope of talking sense into her by the time they reached the parkade. How would she react when he told her he wasn't leaving?

His hand closed over the phone in his jacket pocket. Jill wasn't going to let him use it here, but when this was over, he was going to call Sarah and they were going to have the conversation they should have had two years ago.

He sighed; it was going to be a long day.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thank you **aardvark **for the proverbial kick in the rear. I've been really unmotivated lately and i really needed someone to steer me back on track. i was feeling pretty guilty writing this with the current direction of the show, but now i say 'meh, too bad'. so thanks for that.  
_

_i purposely avoided posting on valentines day cause i didn't have anything fluffy to contribute. __hope you like it =)_

_

* * *

_Chapter 7:

"Jill's escaped."

Two simple words. Three if you counted the contraction. And yet the handful of syllables that fell from Bryce's mouth was enough to cause Sarah's entire world to come crashing down.

Adrenaline was a survival mechanism; evolutionary foresight to fight or flight. When exploited correctly it could mean the difference between pushing daisies or picking them. But Sarah had left that world for too long, and now as the adrenaline flooded her system she no longer remembered how to control it.

She stared at Bryce, feeling her chest constrict. No air. There was no air in the room.

"Sarah!" he cried, shaking her. "Did you hear me?"

Hear him? He had whispered it in the loud crowd of people and it had sounded like a scream. Even if she were deaf she would have found a way to hear it.

Sarah snapped out of her stupor and slapped him—hard.

"You couldn't tell me this two days ago?" she demanded, red hot fury burning through her veins. This was a disaster. Her hands fumbled for the phone. She needed to call Chuck this instant.

Bryce clutched the side of his face and used his other hand to drag her out of the restaurant, plowing through the crowd like a bulldozer before they made a bigger scene.

"You weren't exactly in a talkative mood," he growled. Sarah glared but couldn't find anything to say to defend herself. Maybe she had been a little quick with the kitchen knife.

"He's not picking up," she said. No matter how hard she punched in the numbers or stared at the screen, nothing she did on her end was going to help Chuck. "What do we do?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Bryce said. "I have the situation under control. I just thought you should know, as a courtesy."

"A courtesy?" she repeated, wondering if Bryce would like a symmetrical mark on his other cheek. She hid her clenched fists inside her coat pocket and feigned a smile for the passersby on the street, but Bryce knew he was a straw short from breaking the proverbial camel's back.

"You came to tell me that one of their most dangerous agents has just escaped from her holding facility…as a _courtesy?_" Sarah fought to control her temper but deep down, she secretly hoped the irrational side of her would win.

"Chuck is the first person Jill would try to contact. You _know_ that."

Bryce knew very well, which was why he had no excuses. "I told you I had it under control," he reminded tersely. "I wasn't obligated to contact you at all but I had to see how things were."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Why? Why did he need to see?

"How could you wait?" she demanded. "She knows about Chuck. She knew he was the Intersect!"

Bryce grabbed her by her coat lapels, nearly lifting her off the ground. "Calm down, Sarah," he hissed, the words like hot steam on her neck. "Or do you want to tell everyone on this block our secret?"

Sarah looked sideways and realized they were drawing too much attention. The wrong kind of attention. She nodded to Bryce and restrained herself, going so far as to kiss him discreetly on the lips like any girlfriend would after amending a quarrel with her boyfriend.

The touch of his lips burned against hers, searing her like a brand. She wiped the surface hastily with the back of her hand, ashamed of her behavior. She was acting like a novice; losing her temper, acting out of line, and screaming things she shouldn't.

_Get a grip of yourself. You're an embarrassment. _The reprimand was enough to make Sarah flush with shame.

"As long as Chuck knows nothing, he's safe," Bryce said. "I'll get people to watch you."

"You should have gotten them to watch two days ago," she snarled back. Sarah shook her head, glaring at him with annoyance. "You were supposed to make sure she never saw the light of day." Sick of this conversation, she reached for her phone again.

"Chuck's fine, you're overreacting," he said. "He called you five minutes ago, didn't he?"

_Five minutes is a long time_, Sarah thought as she reached Chuck's voicemail for what felt like the umpteenth time. She ended the call and stared at the phone's background. Chuck's happy smile stared back.

Tracing her thumb over his picture, she realized she couldn't ever lose that. It had been years since she'd seen herself as anything but a loving wife, but now she felt the calling of her prior role, and she knew she would do anything to keep him safe.

Drastic times called for drastic means.

"What are you doing?" Bryce asked. He leaned over Sarah's shoulder as she punched a series of numbers into her phone.

"Something I promised myself I would never do," she said. An application appeared on the screen, the device chirping as it scrolled through a list of possible coordinates.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, raising his brows.

Sarah didn't respond.

"When did you—" he stopped. "How did you…" Bryce laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Sarah clenched her fists together and reminded herself to take a deep breath. She wasn't proud of herself either.

Finally her cell beeped twice, a red box crossed on the mapped coordinates. The both of them stared as the map expanded, giving the target's exact location.

Instead of the relief she'd been expecting, Sarah felt like the air had been knocked out of her for the second time today. She swallowed nervously as she looked at Bryce. She didn't recognize the address but it was close—far closer than say, Chuck's office.

_

Bryce told her they could take his car but Sarah was already running on foot, covering the distance as rapidly as her inappropriate footwear would allow. She swore under her breath, hating herself for letting her guard down. She should have interrogated Bryce that evening instead of letting her emotions run rampant. She should have thought of Chuck's safety before her own insecurity. What did it matter now if Bryce had come to ruffle some feathers? Who cared if he wanted to rub his exciting life in her face?

"Sarah!" she heard Bryce yell behind her but the voice was muffled and dull. Everything in her surroundings was a blur. Nothing mattered now, except Chuck.

_I love you_. That's what he'd said. Like he knew something was going to happen. Something terrible. Sarah suppressed a cry, focusing all her strength on closing the distance that separated them. She didn't know what burned more, her oxygen starved lungs or the fear of him living, thinking she didn't feel the same way.

_

Sarah double-checked the GPS as they ran into the parkade. Why would Chuck park his car here? It wasn't close to anywhere familiar, his or hers.

"You sure about this?" Bryce asked, keeping pace with her.

Sarah checked her phone again. "Yeah," she said, scanning the rows of shiny metal hoods for her husband. She kept expecting to see his tall figure peak out from between the parked vehicles but there was no one here.

"There's another four levels, can't the monitor narrow it down?"

Sarah shot Bryce an annoyed look but he was right. The map couldn't be expanded any further.

"We should split up," she said, climbing to the next level. Bryce followed at her heels, seemingly unable to comprehend the concept.

"You're being paranoid," he accused. "So he parks his car in a different place today. Did you ever think parking might be full in his part of town? Maybe he needed to run an errand. So what?"

Sarah shook her head adamantly. "Something's wrong," she said. Bryce looked at her, his brows raised in question. He didn't believe a word of it.

"I just know," she said. If she told Bryce that sometimes Chuck and her were so in-sync they could sense each other's thoughts from miles away, would he believe her? Would he believe that Chuck knew exactly what she craved before she even realized it, or that she knew when Chuck needed a night off with Morgan before the idea even crossed his mind?

Sarah knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Chuck wouldn't be here unless something was wrong. Beyond that, her abilities failed her.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you want us to split up?" Bryce asked. The second floor was clear and they moved onto the third.

An undeniably sly smile appeared on his face. "'Cause you know what I think? I think you're afraid Chuck will catch the two of us together."

Sarah said nothing. She pulled out her beloved gun from the hidden compartment in her purse and cocked the weapon as a warning.

Bryce raised his hands in the air. "Okay," he muttered under his breath. "You win."

As they opened the door to the third floor, Sarah thought she saw a flicker of life.

"Chuck?" she called out, hiding the gun behind her back. She ran forwards, trying to catch a better glimpse of the man at the end of the building. His stature matched, his build similar, and even the clothes seemed familiar to her. She couldn't be sure though.

"Chuck?" she cried again, willing the man to turn around. Her heart began to race as her heels clicked against the concrete. _Look at me! _

"Chuck!"

The man swiveled around, finally hearing her call. She saw his mop of brown hair first, then his eyes alit with recognition, and lastly the lips she had claimed so many times before slowly form into a hesitant smile.

"Sarah?" he asked, his thick brows furrowing together in confusion.

"Chuck." Sarah allowed herself a sigh of relief. Chuck was okay. Chuck was safe.

Her joy was short-lived however. As Chuck turned, his tall stature revealed the shade of a woman hiding in his shadows.

The brunette stepped forwards, putting a possessive hand around her husband's arm.

Jill.

* * *

_muwhahaha...any thoughts? _


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: For those of you who have noticed, i apologize for the misnumbering on some of the chapters. I wrote some chapters and split them in two so the numbering has been weird ever since.  
_

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* * *

_Chapter 9:

Everything happened so fast.

Chuck was walking Jill to her car one minute, and the next Sarah was right there behind him.

He didn't have time to react.

She was shouting something and then she was pointing.

_Oh my God. _

Sarah had a gun.

"Get away from her!" Sarah screamed, pointing the instrument at him. Chuck froze like a deer in headlights, his eyes bulging with bewilderment. He felt Jill's arm snake around him as she cowered against him.

"Sarah?" he asked, for a second unable to recognize the woman who stood in front of him. She looked every bit like the woman he once knew, but the expression on her face—Chuck had never seen her like this before. Her glare chilled him to the bone; he never thought blue could look so black. There was no light in them, no hint of the person he had fallen in love with; just an endless abyss. The first thought that came to mind was…soulless.

No, this was someone else entirely. A part of her he'd never witnessed. A part of her he never knew existed.

"Chuck," Sarah said through gritted teeth. "Get. Away. Now."

Her voice was so grave, her stance so intense, that Chuck did the first thing that came to mind and held his hands up high in surrender.

"Sarah?" he whimpered. "What are you doing here?" He looked over her shoulder at the man fast approaching with a weapon of his own and found he couldn't keep the hurt from entering his voice. "Why are you with Bryce?"

When she didn't respond, he began to panic. "Do you always carry a gun?" Even to dinners at Ellie's? Even when they went out to the movies?

Still no answer.

"How did you find me?"

In her silence, the awful truth dawned on him. His eyes immediately darted to his watch, where he noticed a pulse-like red flash behind the timepiece where there hadn't been before. He didn't know what to say. She had given him that watch as a gift.

Chuck gulped. Camille was right. Sarah had lied to him, over and over again. Everything was a lie.

"Get away from her right now, Chuck," she warned, creeping closer. Jill whimpered, shrinking behind his long torso. "I'll explain everything when we get home."

"Sarah," Chuck said. "Please put the gun down. Let's discuss this."

He knew in an instant that there was no discussion to be had. Her eyes were jet black, the coldest, cruelest expression he'd ever seen. It was a look of absolute, vile, hatred.

Bryce snuck close to Sarah's ear. "Take the shot," he hissed, loud for everyone to hear. The gun in the woman's hand wavered and Chuck visibly flinched.

_Oh God_, the two of them were in on this together.

"What do you want?" Chuck asked, directing his question at Bryce.

"Get away from her!" Sarah shouted, taking another step forwards. "Jill, I swear if you…" She couldn't finish the sentence but her intentions were obvious.

Jill clung to Chuck's shirt, her body pressed up tight against his. Her hands trembled as she tugged on his tie, drawing his head down as she stood on her tiptoes. He wanted to tell her it would be alright. He wanted to console her, and beg her not to cry, but he was really no better.

"Listen to me, Chuck," Jill said, her voice shaking the same as her body. "You need to run now. As fast as you can, as far as you can." Her eyes began to well with tears and she stroked his hair ever so gently. "Don't look back. Do you hear me?"

"Jill," Chuck gasped. "What are you talking about?"

Jill shook her head. "Did you hear me?" she whispered, urgently now. "You need to run. They're dangerous people." Her eyes darted nervously at Sarah and Bryce, both armed and ready to shoot.

"Jill…"

"I love you," she said. She looked like she was about to kiss him but held back. "I've always loved you."

Jill looked away before Chuck could say anything else. By then her body had stopped trembling and she had a wholly determined look on her face.

"Remember what I said," she whispered as she stepped away from Chuck. She looked Sarah dead in the eye as she walked forwards, standing directly in the line of fire.

"Go ahead, Sarah," she said, standing rigidly still. "Shoot me."

Chuck stared in horror. "What? No! Jill!" When had he become the kind of person who allowed a defenseless woman to take a bullet for him? "Sarah, don't!"

"Don't move!" Sarah ordered, her aim shifting in warning.

Chuck froze. Her eyes were dead to him and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Jill turned her head and Chuck was faced with a pair of the most pitifully sad eyes. "Don't," she whispered, agreeing with Sarah.

Then she turned back to face the blond.

"What are you waiting for, Sarah? You've got me." She raised her arms in the air. "Come on, I'm who you want."

"Sarah!" Chuck begged.

"What are you waiting for?" Bryce demanded, taking aim. "I'll do it—"

"No!" Chuck cried. How could Bryce be so heartless? This was Jill, his ex-girlfriend…_their_ ex-girlfriend.

"Shoot me!" Jill commanded, raising her voice.

Chuck stared at Sarah in disbelief. Was she really going to do it? Her hardened expression combined with a look of immense concentration seemed to spell their imminent doom. If not for the slight tremble in her weapon hand, Chuck had no doubt she would have pulled the trigger a long time ago.

"Shoot me!" Jill screamed, her voice echoing through the empty car lot.

Voices began to escalate, each trying to outdo the other and the reverberations shook through the building, culminating into one cacophonic mess.

"No! Don't! Sarah, please!"

"Hurry up, Walker!"

"This is what you wanted isn't it?"

"What are you waiting for?"

"Shoot—"

An explosion sounded in Chuck's ear, the noise so loud his body jerked back like an elastic band snapping back.

Nothing happened at first, but the smoking gun in Sarah's hand shook Chuck from his paralysis. She had done it. She had really done it.

_My God. _

Chuck looked in front of him at Jill. One minute she was standing there, and the next she was falling.

* * *

_...._

_be honest...you didn't think she would actually pull the trigger, did you? _


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: to my lovely readers, despite how things are right now i feel you should know; 1) this is still chuck/sarah 2) i would never write a tragedy and 3) someday there will be sunshine and rainbows, so bear with me here._

_i haven't updated so quickly in a long while now but your reviews were a real motivation to keep going. thanks again!  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter 10:

Sarah was no stranger to violence. Her whole life she'd seen it; like a shadow lurking against the walls it was her most constant companion. Growing up she felt her family was no different from those that drank or smoked. A vice was a vice.

Even when she decided to give up that life, violence had paved the way to being a better person. She'd changed though. Chuck had changed her. She had walked away from it all, the good and the bad; burned bridges, ropes, ladders—everything to put it behind her.

Staring now at the bright red stain that blossomed across Jill's chest, she realized just how quickly it could all come back. As if her old friend had never left.

Jill looked just as surprised as she did, but the look that followed after, the way she lifted her head and gazed at her through the neat row of bangs. It was the look of victory in the face of death.

A harrowing darkness descended upon Sarah as she heard Chuck scream. _Her_ name, no less. His anguish was deafening.

Sarah staggered back, falling into Bryce's arms just as her husband caught Jill in his. Even in his panic, Chuck cradled the fallen woman gently. Sarah stared on, consumed by jealousy.

"Chuck," she said though no sound escaped her throat. _Please. Chuck. _

When Chuck finally raised his head to look at her, Sarah knew she might as well have put the bullet through him. He looked like a child huddling against Jill's fallen body and her first instinct was to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay.

Another lie. And this time she couldn't even say it to herself.

Nothing would ever be the same now. Sarah dropped the gun, her hands reaching out to grasp nothing but stale air. Chuck shrank away from her like a bewildered creature.

He sobbed, burying his face in Jill's hair. He said something unintelligible through his cries but Sarah couldn't make it out. Or rather, she didn't want to. Seeing him so attached to her was enough.

Suddenly he looked up at them. "She's alive!" he shouted. "She's alive!"

Sarah's brows furrowed just the slightest. Jill lay in Chuck's arms so pale and still, he could easily be mistaken. Either that or it had been a miracle, because Sarah wasn't one to be sloppy.

"Please!" Chuck begged. "Do something!"

Sarah was out of words. She stared, holding up her empty hands. What did he want her to do?

"What's wrong with you?" he screamed.

The blood began to pool underneath them; dark like wine. A similar stain was growing across Chuck's shirt, almost as if he had been the one shot.

Sarah stood as rigid as a statue. His accusing eyes made her want to melt into a puddle and disappear. Never had she felt so small and insignificant as she did under his gaze.

What was wrong with her indeed, to have allowed this madness into her life?

"Please, we need an ambulance! Get help!" Chuck begged, holding onto Jill. He kissed the top of her temple and rocked her slowly. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

Sarah watched the exchange, feeling as if her heart were being ripped out of her chest. She needed him now. She needed him to tell her the same.

How could she make him understand? Jill was poison. The things she did…the things she threatened to do…Sarah wished she had pulled the triggers years ago. She had been a sentimental fool and now here she was all alone.

Sarah tugged the ends of her jacket, pulling them tight around her. Could Chuck not see that she was frightened too? That she needed to be comforted and reassured just as much as the monster he was holding?

"Please!" Chuck begged, his voice snatching her from her thoughts.

"Enough," Bryce muttered as he pushed Sarah out of the way, stepping forwards with gun in hand.

"No," Sarah said, before she could even catch herself. She held him back, pleading wordlessly with him.

"She's caused us enough trouble," Bryce said under his breath.

She squeezed his shoulder, shaking her head. "No," she said. Sarah knew if Jill died, Chuck would never forgive her. "Please, go get help."

Bryce looked down at the helpless pair, and then back at Sarah. She stared into his pale-blue eyes, pleading silently. They had been one and the same once, but now Sarah could see clearly the line that divided them. She couldn't make anymore sacrifices but Bryce could still afford to, was still willing to—

"Don't make me beg," she told him. "Because I will."

Bryce glared at her. He didn't understand. "Fine," he muttered. He walked off looking anything but enthusiastic about the errand.

Bryce's absence allowed Sarah to let out a sigh of relief. At least some of the tension was gone now, and they were almost alone.

The silence was awful. Sarah wanted to say something; anything, but an invisible hand closed over her throat every time she opened her mouth.

She thought she ought to apologize, but she didn't want to lie to Chuck anymore. She was not sorry to have rid the world of that woman.

"Chuck?"

"Don't!" Chuck yelled before she had even take a step forwards. He held out his hands, keeping her back. "Don't…" he said, quieter the second time. "Just…just stay where you are."

Chuck wouldn't look up at her. It was like she didn't exist.

"Chuck, please," she said quietly. Her legs were quaking and she felt like she was on the verge of begging on her knees.

"No, Sarah, don't!" Chuck shook his head fervidly. "Don't come any closer!"

"Chuck!" she cried. "It's me!" She stared at him, trying to will her thoughts to him. _It's me, Sarah, your wife. Please Chuck. Please. _

"I don't know you anymore," he said. Fatal words. Final words.

"No…" Sarah shook visibly, tears coming so rapidly to her eyes she was blinded by them.

"You lied about everything," he whispered. "This whole time. I trusted you."

Sarah gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself together. She had always despised those girls who made a scene; the wailing and screaming, it always seemed so loud and pathetic, but now she understood. It was basic instinct; sometimes it was the only way to react.

"Chuck!" she whimpered. "Please, look at me!" When he didn't respond, she repeated it a second time. "Please! Please, Chuck!"

He wouldn't. All he would do was stare down at Jill's hauntingly still face. Watching the way he held her, Sarah felt as if her ribs were caving in, crushing the air from her chest. She knew he would never hold her in the same way again.

"Makes me wonder what else about the last seven years has been a lie," he said. "It must have been convenient for you that I didn't remember anything. You could rewrite our past any way you wanted."

Hot tears poured down Sarah's face. "No!" she blurted, her sobs coming out in ragged breaths. "Chuck!" How could he think that?

_Because you're a big fat liar. _

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out her conscience. She didn't need someone taunting her with_ I told you so_'s to know that she had made a colossal mistake.

"No, you don't understand," she said. "I can explain." _Come back to me, Chuck. Please come back. _

"Let me help," she said, hoping it would appease him. The pool of blood was growing and it showed no sign of stopping. So much blood for one person.

Sarah had seen her share of casualties, but this was the first time it made her want to retch.

"Chuck?"

He swallowed decisively. "You want to help?" he croaked. "You can help Bryce."

The way he said the name made Sarah flinch. She looked at him in disbelief, hoping she had heard wrong. When he didn't repeat himself or clarify, she realized he knew about her and Bryce and their past together.

Sarah caught on moments too late that her own silence was a confirmation of sorts. When she wasn't able to deny it or feign innocence, she might as well have confessed to everything.

She stared at his ashen face, wondering what he was thinking now. How could things have spun so out of control? She wished she knew his thoughts so she could tell him different. But where to start? Bryce had been such a long time ago. And Jill? How could she speak ill of Jill when she was inches from Death's door?

"Chuck?" Chuck didn't appear to have heard her.

Sarah bit down on her lip—hard. Hard enough to taste blood in her mouth. She couldn't hold herself together any longer. Falling apart in front of Chuck was not an option; not when she knew he wouldn't be there to catch her.

Sarah stood to her full height, her body nearly giving out at the effort. "Don't move," she whispered. "I'll be right back. Help is on the way."

Chuck said nothing. He continued to stare at Jill, rocking dumbly back and forth whilst stroking her hair. Seeing them this way made Sarah sick to her stomach.

She couldn't bear it any longer. So she did what she never thought she'd do.

She ran.

_

Sarah ran until every muscle in her body burned with pain and her lungs felt like they'd been set on fire. She needed to exhaust herself. The sooner her body gave out, the longer she could delay the fallout, the tears, and coming face-to-face with the inevitable loss.

She had no idea where Bryce had gone, and in her mindless state she forgot she was supposed to find help for Jill.

She was just running to get away.

To hide.

To wake and realize this was only a terrible dream.

And then a hand caught her and spun her around, slamming her back into reality. She met with a pair of the coldest blue eyes she'd ever seen, and suddenly realized that Bryce did not possess a friendly face. His handsome features contained too many sharp angles, his cheekbones too high and pronounced, and his eyes were too pale for warmth.

She wanted Chuck. She wanted his arms around her, for him to console her and kiss her on the temple and hold her like he would never, ever, let go.

"An ambulance is coming," Bryce deadpanned. "Calm yourself."

Sarah's features screwed into a ball of fury. Without warning she punched him full in the face, feeling a rush of satisfaction when her knuckles recoiled off his cheekbone.

"Don't tell me to calm myself," she warned, a growl forming at the base of her throat. How were they going to explain this to the police? To the agency? To Chuck? "If anything happens to him." She raised her fist again, fully prepared to knock him senseless in view of everyone on the busy street. "I will kill you. So help me, Bryce Larkin, I will kill you."

She stared into his eyes so he could see the truth in them and know that she would not hesitate to pull the trigger like she had for Jill.

_

Sarah and Bryce made their way back to the third level of the parkade before the ambulance had arrived. She allowed Bryce to take the lead, feeling incapable of the task involved. He said something about a mugging and sorting out an alibi, but Sarah could hardly hear over the sound of her own tragically beating heart.

The drumming in her ear grew louder and louder as she took the steps two at a time, dreading the moment when she would have to stare into Chuck's eyes and see nothing but fear and betrayal.

Her worries were misplaced however and Sarah realized there were worse things to dread.

They ran down the path of the third level, scanning the perimeter in similar panic. She called out his name until she was hoarse but to no avail.

There was no one there.

All that was left was a pool of blood; dark like wine.

She heard an anguished scream and Bryce grabbed her arm, a look of worry clear on his features.

It took Sarah a little longer to realize that the sound was coming from her.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Trying for something a little more light-hearted this chapter.  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter 11:

Chuck had always prided himself on not driving like ninety-percent of the population in L.A. but as he sat behind the wheel of Jill's car, he realized that the idiots who cut him off might have had legitimate reason to do so.

He didn't know what came over him. After Sarah and Bryce had gone, Jill had used the last ounce of remaining strength to pass him her car keys. At the time there was little opportunity to think over the _what's _and _why's_. It was about survival. About running away as fast and far as possible.

Jill slumped in the passenger seat, groaning as he took an overly sharp turn.

"Chuck?" she whispered, her eyes allowing only a slit of light through.

"Yeah. I'm here," he said. "You're going to be okay. I'm going to get you to a hospital."

He tried to avert his eyes from her jacket and the copious amount of blood that covered it.

"No!" she cried, using all her strength to manage a voice above a whimper. "Not the hospital," she said. "It's not safe."

"No, Jill, you need to see a doctor," Chuck said with determination. He sped down the road, honking every two seconds and basically driving like the kind of person he would have loved to hate.

"Throw away your watch," she commanded. Weak as she was, she reached over to his side with the steering wheel and tried to pry it off herself. "You need to throw it away," she repeated.

"Okay! Okay!" he said. Anything to settle her down. He removed his hands from the steering wheel and unlatched the timepiece, dangling it in front of her as proof. "Okay, I'm throwing it away." He pushed down the window and held it out in the fast-moving breeze.

Chuck hesitated, more than a little reluctant to part with it. He was suddenly reminded of the night Sarah had given it to him, the pride in her eyes when she'd helped him put it on, the way her smile broadened every time she saw him wearing it—

"Do it!" Jill ordered, rising from her seat again.

Chuck let go, wincing as he heard the metal object fall to the pavement only to be crushed by the tires behind him.

"Okay, I did it," he said, but he couldn't hide the fact he had hesitated. Even though he knew he had to, knew that those memories weren't real, it was still difficult to let go.

Jill seemed to relax. She pointed to the exit ramp just ahead. "Turn there. After a hundred meters, turn right."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," she whispered. Chuck did as he was told. That was all he needed to know.

_

Following her instructions, Chuck drove to a part of the city he never knew existed. An industrial heavy part of L.A., it was filled with warehouses, blacked out windows and heavily reinforced doors. He stopped at a building Jill pointed out, and before the keys were even out of the ignition, a team descended on them.

Wordlessly they carried Jill inside, largely ignoring Chuck. He followed at their heels like a lost puppy dog, anxious to stay with Jill, but as soon as he walked through the steel doors, he realized it would be impossible.

On the outside the building looked as if it were a dilapidated warehouse, but on the inside, Chuck felt like he had walked into an institution.

The white tiles, white-washed walls, and series of locked doors made Chuck feel like he was a strait-jacket away from being committed. The medical team flashed their cards and whisked Jill away down the series of locked doors but Chuck had nothing, and was left out in the cold.

He looked nervously through the window as the stretcher disappeared around the corner.

"Hello, Chuck."

That voice.

Chuck spun around in alarm, never thinking he would see the woman again. "Camille," he said, gulping nervously.

"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this," she said. "But you didn't believe us."

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder but there was nothing gentle about her touch. Chuck felt his shoulders sag a little under the force of her hand.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Camille smiled but it never reached her eyes. "I told you your life was in danger."

Chuck said nothing but he knew Sarah had intended the bullet of Jill and Jill alone. "Is she going to be okay?" he repeated.

Camille continued to smile. "I'll go check," she said. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Chuck looked behind him at the exit now locked and reinforced, then back at the series of doors all restricted with card access. Did he really have a choice?

_

Chuck sat down to catch his breath. He looked past the long row of locked doors, unsettled by the knowledge that somewhere behind one of them; Jill was fighting for her life.

In a way, he felt like he could finally understand why hospital departments insisted on merging waiting rooms together. The silence, the grief and anxiety, every emotion was magnified when you had no one else's suffering to contend with. The wait was always so much worse when you were alone.

Chuck didn't know why, but his thoughts drifted to a time in the past.

.

_It was a Monday morning. Chuck was in a hurry, disorganized and disheveled as usual. He couldn't remember, but he might have been late for a meeting. Sarah was already at the kitchen table, dressed for work, not a strand of hair out of place. The morning paper was spread out in front of her._

_The moment struck him as strange, not because Sarah usually joined him in the morning mayhem, but because she wasn't drinking her morning coffee. Because she was sitting down with her back to him. Because she was reading the paper instead of helping him readjust his tie._

_So he'd approached her; asked the obvious.  
_

Nothing. Why would you think something's wrong?

I don't know. _Because of the way she brushed her hands across her cheeks, the way she closed the paper and threw it in the recycling bin and refused to look at him._

Sarah._ She'd run to the bathroom to fix her make-up when he leaned down and fished out the paper, opened it to the page she'd been reading. An accident claiming five lives. The photos filled the bottom row, no one that he recognized._

Sarah?_ He held up the page. _Did you know them?

_Her bottom lip trembles, and Chuck wishes she wouldn't try so hard to bottle her feelings inside. He wants to tell her that she doesn't have to, not from him._

_Sarah doesn't say anything, but she buries herself into his chest. He holds her as she sobs, it's all he can do and he knows it's all she needs._

_They go to the funeral a few days later and sit in the back row. Sarah doesn't say anything, doesn't acknowledge the grieving family. She just squeezes his hand and sits stoically, staring straight ahead. In the car she breaks down, and by the time they get back to the apartment, he can't make out a word she's saying. He takes the day off and they lie in bed together, buried under the sheets, the only place she feels safe._

_She won't say who they were. Doesn't want to talk about it. _

_And that's how Chuck knows they were from that other life. He wonders if he knew them too; wonders if it's callus not to mourn for a friend you never knew._

Thank you, Chuck._ He holds her so she doesn't have to cling onto him. So she knows that he's not going anywhere._

I needed the day off anyway. _He doesn't know why he says what he says when they both know it's for her sake._

Not that._ Chuck can't bear to see the sadness in her eyes, but he does it anyway, because even when she's crying she's beautiful. _For saving me.

_Chuck almost asks what she means, but he knows the past is a painful place for her, and he can't stand to be the cause of any more tears. And maybe it's his own fault that he kisses her on the temple and hugs her close instead of digging deeper._

.

Maybe it's his own fault he was lied to.

Now he was left to wonder how much of it was real. Had she really known those people? Did she mean any of what she said to him?

The sound of heels stabbing the ground bursts Chuck's bubble and he's thrown hastily back into reality.

Camille stood over him with a satisfied smile. "Jill's in surgery right now, but things look good."

Chuck swallowed slowly. "She's going to be okay? When can I see her?"

Camille's eyes were warm for once but the smile on her lips felt oddly sinister.

"Soon. You can see her as soon as they're done."

* * *

_As always, if you liked/loved/hated something, let me know. please review =) _


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Oops guys, I got so caught up reading other people's stories i forgot i had one of my own. Here's another light-hearted chapter.  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter 12:

Jill had barely caught her breath when the containment room doors burst open. When she saw who it was, her head fell back against the pillow and she stared stoically up at the ceiling, refusing to meet the woman's eyes.

Camille's hips swayed seductively as she sauntered over to Jill's bedside, on stiletto heels no less. She crossed her arms and looked down at the patient, her grin growing wider by the second.

"Still alive?" Camille taunted, a row of sharp canines peeking through blood-red lips. Her eyes made a quick assessment of Jill's current state and once satisfied, she dismissed the medical team with a wave.

Jill winced as the doctor rushed to finish the IV line insertion. Another hastily covered a thick piece of gauze over the fast-growing bruise on her sternum, pressing hard enough to evoke a sharp hiss of pain.

"You're lucky you can feel that," Camille said, her smile tinged with cruelty. "It could have been a headshot."

Jill's eyes darted to the discarded vest lying on the table. She had wasted an entire morning debating whether or not to put it on. A prudent agent would have worn a thicker vest, but her assignment had been too easy.

Bring in Chuck. Bring in a man who had no recollection of her affiliations. A man who once—and could still, love her. Tempting Murphy's Law, she had asked herself, _what could possibly go wrong? _

"It was a simple assignment," Camille said, almost a reprimand.

Jill narrowed her eyes. No one could have foreseen the chaos that ensued.

"If it was so simple why did you need me?" she asked. When Camille only grunted, Jill managed a weak smile. The unshakable perfectionist had failed while she had succeeded. That must be a difficult pill to swallow.

"You deviated from the plan," Camille accused, refusing to acknowledge Jill's improvisation. "What you did was stupid."

Jill smirked. "If I didn't know better, Camille, you might actually _care_ for my wellbeing." The woman's dark eyes reminded her that it could not be the case. Still, she had expected Camille to appreciate her cleverness. Wearing light armor was stupid, but concealing a unit of blood inbetween the layers? Certainly not. Though it hurt every time she took a breath, Jill knew she had won one of the biggest gambles of her life.

"She could have killed you. You could have lost the subject."

Jill shook her head. The second Sarah had pulled the trigger; she knew she had won. Even if she died, she would have taken Chuck with her. He would never trust Sarah again.

_Or would he?_ Convincing him had proven more difficult than she would like to admit. Up until Sarah's intrusion, Jill still felt like he had his feet planted firmly on the other side of the fence.

_You have her to thank then._ Jill narrowed her eyes. It was an annoying thought.

"Did you hear me?" Camille prompted. "You could have botched the entire mission."

"But I didn't." Jill stared up at Camille with a certain ounce of defiance. On paper, today would read as a complete success.

Camille lowered her eyes. "No. You did well," the woman finally conceded. "It should be easy to win him over now. They did all the hard work for us, wiping his memories."

_And if he doesn't cooperate? What then?_

Jill's smile fell. Her chest ached and it had nothing to do with her injury. She could deny to Camille all she wanted, but she could not lie to herself. She had miscalculated Chuck. Her powers of persuasion had waned considerably over the years, and she could see that it would still be a fight to convince him of anything at all.

Jill never imagined Chuck would feel so strongly towards the blond. Strong enough to marry her in fact; amnesia notwithstanding. And when she thought how it could have been her life with Chuck, her past wiped clean, her in the white dress and the house behind the picket fence…it only made chest hurt all the more.

Jill looked pleadingly into the woman's eyes, knowing she was in no position to bargain. "Promise me you won't hurt him." Camille frowned and Jill forced herself to sit up despite every part of her body telling her not to. "He's just a civilian. He's harmless," she reminded. Even more harmless now that he knew absolutely nothing.

Camille smiled cryptically, and like any code, it was impossible to know the true meaning behind it.

"If he does everything we ask; there's no reason to." A pause. "You'll make sure of that, won't you?"

It was so like Camille to hand over the dice and force her to roll. Never one to dirty her manicured hands, Jill understood the woman's intentions all too well. She lowered her eyes and sank back into the bed.

"Of course," she said, for her sake, and for Chuck's.

_

Jill was drifting in and out of sleep when she heard the door buzz and the lock release. She groaned and glanced sideways to see who it was now.

"Chuck?" she rasped, her mouth feeling as swollen and dry as a ball of cotton.

In the dim light, she couldn't be sure.

"Chuck?" she whispered again, a little louder this time.

For a moment she thought she was walking into a dream. During her years in captivity, imagining moments with Chuck had been a mind exercise of sorts, a reprieve from the harsh reality.

Now she wondered if she had perfected the skill. He looked so real, almost as if he were really here.

"Hey…" His gentle voice sent shudders through her spine.

She smiled weakly up at him. "It is you," she murmured. As she moved her hand, the line in her arm tugged and she was reminded of the events leading up to her current state.

This was real. Chuck was real.

Jill blinked slowly. Whatever the doctors had put in the bag, it left her drained and disoriented.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, his eyes downcast with worry. "You were in surgery."

_Was I? Surgery for what—it's only a bruise—_

She stopped herself before she said anything. Chuck thought the wound was real.

She could not believe she nearly revealed that. Jill shook her head, fighting valiantly against the drugs. Camille was a fool for thinking she couldn't be convincing enough lying prone in bed.

"Thank you for holding on," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. He smiled but it was only a fraction of the kind of smile she remembered.

"I did it for you," she whispered. The beatings, the threats, the drugs…she had endured them all for him. For this second chance.

"You're safe now," she soothed.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah," he said. She'd never heard him sound so lifeless before. He looked away but there was no hiding the tears in his eyes.

"Then why are you still so sad?" Jill sighed as she felt his fingers drift from hers. She longed for the warm touch of his skin and wondered when she would have it again.

"If you really don't remember anything, then why is this so hard to believe?" Jill's chest began to ache again but she refused to believe it could be anything but the injury. "Why, Chuck?"

He had no response for her, but his shoulders sagged at the unspoken accusation.

Jill implored him silently to look up at her, to answer her, but he wouldn't. She couldn't help it. Her frustrations began to mount; how could he still have so much faith in her?

"How could you remember Sarah and forget about us?"

Jill realized this was the wrong thing to say. Chuck winced and tell-tale tears began to fall onto the edge of the sheets.

"Chuck?"

The man sniffed back his tears, and then self-consciously cleared his throat. "I didn't forget," he whispered, and finally looked at her again. It was a blank stare, but at this point, Jill was willing to settle for anything.

His words carried more meaning than his eyes. It fed new life into the dim embers of her heart, and she felt so happy it hurt to breathe.

With those three words he had given her all the hope she needed to see the plan through.

"We need your help, Chuck," she said. "Sarah was rogue, just like Bryce. She and several others infiltrated deep inside the agency's network. We've tried to undo some of the damage but we caught on too late."

Chuck swallowed, his face twisting with pain. Jill sucked in a deep breath, wishing she could take back the words.

_Damn these drugs_. She couldn't think straight.

"Please, Chuck," she whimpered, hitting him at his Achilles' Heel. She saw him hesitate for only a second but it was all she needed. "They were going to use you," she reminded. "We need your help to work against them."

Chuck closed his eyes. Sarah was out of the picture but it wasn't enough. Jill could see she was doing the opposite of what she wanted. The more she mentioned that woman, the more he distanced himself. If Chuck were a burn victim then she was the madwoman running at him with a torch.

Jill gritted her teeth. It was the only way she knew how to play the game. The only way she wanted to play. She was not going to do that woman any favors by singing her praises.

"Don't you see?" she asked, her own dislike for the woman beginning to multiply with each second of Chuck's hesitation. "They've been playing you this whole time. The _both_ of them."

Jill held her breath and waited. It was a necessary evil but she was sorry for it. When she saw the terrible hurt in his eyes, she felt as if she had just slapped him and the sight brought a sharp pang to her chest.

"Don't feel bad, Chuck. She was with him long before she knew you," she soothed, knowing that sometimes a pinch of niceness had the same effect as a dollop of cruelty. "They're well-matched. You can see it, can't you?"

Chuck turned abruptly so that his back was to her. Jill bit her lip. She was so used to playing hardball, but she could see now that he needed to be handled with care. Chuck had always been a sensitive soul.

_Enough of this_. She wanted to comfort him, to hold him the way he had held her.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said, real tears spilling down her cheeks. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She let out a small sigh of relief. The truth was always easier to tell than the lies.

Chuck sighed too. After a lengthy silence, he turned back to face her, his eyes dark with determination.

"What do you need me to do?"

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_Reviews are always appreciated. This was even more light-hearted than the last, wouldn't you agree? _


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: First off: thank you for all the reviews. i don't think i can say it enough. my motivation comes and goes so without you guys, i'd probably still be stuck on the third chapter. Second: This has been a difficult chapter for me to write, probably the hardest yet. i wrote it a couple different ways but none of them were satisfactory. i'm still not completely satisfied but i kind of want to get to the next chapter already. is that bad of me? thirdly: "light-hearted" content is subjective but i'm pretty sure this isn't one of them. will you read anyway if i promise a "light-hearted" chapter next?  
_

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_Chapter 13:

Sarah didn't need to open her eyes to feel the warm rays of the morning light cast over her head. She groaned, turned to face the other way, and buried herself deeper under the covers. Curled up underneath the blankets, she'd never felt so safe and warm.

All of a sudden her senses kicked in and she froze, the events of the last few days taking her spiraling down into a nightmare she feared she would never wake from.

"Morning."

The voice from the other side of the bed sent chills down her spine.

"Chuck?" She tossed the sheets aside, nearly falling over the mattress when she saw him, fully clothed no less, lying there beside her on top of the bed. "Chuck!" She felt every cell in her body amalgamate into the longest, deepest rush of relief as she threw her body on top of his.

Chuck smiled at her, but his eyes were far and away. When he patted her back, his hand never lingered for longer than the beat of a butterfly's wings.

"When did you get back?" she asked, clutching him tighter. She ran her hands hungrily across his face, trembling with excitement as she recalled the familiar terrain. She'd never felt so grateful her entire life.

"Not too long ago," he said.

Sarah smiled, promising herself she wouldn't cry. Everything was going to be okay. "Why don't you change out of these clothes?" she asked, undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Call the office and tell them you're not coming in today."

_Or the day after. _In the back of her mind she thought how she would never let him out of her sight again.

"Sarah," he said, stopping her before she got any further. He rebuttoned the buttons she'd taken apart and zipped his jacket closed. "I can't."

"Okay," she said quickly, afraid to show how much it hurt her. "But we need to talk. There are things I should have told you a long time ago." As she rushed to kiss him, he tilted his head and her lips fell short on one side of his cheek.

"Don't you think it's too late for that?" he asked, pushing her back.

Sarah was speechless. Her skin prickled with goosebumps and she'd never felt the bedroom grow so cold so quickly.

"Chuck!" she gasped.

"After everything that's happened, how can I ever trust you again?"

It was more than his words, it was the way he said them. So calm and collected; a complete one-eighty of Sarah's own emotions. She wished he would scream at her, sob, wail, curse, anything but this…this utter indifference.

"Chuck…" Sarah couldn't help herself. Tears sprang to her defense and she felt dizzy with despair. "Please, just listen."

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, sitting up on the bed now. "I can't." He took her hand and slid something into her palm, closing her fingers over the small metal object. "It's over, Sarah."

Chuck stood up, his left hand visibly bare at his side. Sarah couldn't even muster the courage to open her fist and confirm it for herself.

"Chuck, please," she cried. She'd never begged in her whole life; not even as a child lost and abandoned after a botched heist, not even when captured and threatened with imminent death, never.

But this was different. She'd never been so afraid in her whole life.

She was on her knees but Chuck's eyes barely registered any emotion at all.

"It's over, Sarah," he said. "I gave you too many chances."

The truth of his words left her speechless. Tears were all she had now, and she spent them like a rich man did money, using every last drop and knowing there was still more to be had.

What could she say to undo her mistakes? What could she say to make everything alright?

"Goodbye, Sarah."

As she raised her head, she saw him draw out a gun from his pocket, taking aim. It didn't even catch her by surprise; she welcomed it. It would be a kind departure from all this.

_Do it. _

She closed her eyes, and heard the bang—

.

Only it wasn't a bang, it was a loud beep.

Sarah woke in cold sweat, her breaths coming hard and fast and her cheeks dripping wet with tears. She sat up on the couch, trying to discern what was reality and what wasn't. Everything felt like one giant nightmare.

_God, what time is it? _

It was pitch black in the apartment but she found the darkness comforting. It made the empty space feel smaller and the loneliness easier to accept.

Suddenly she heard that familiar beep again, the one that was supposed to spell her doom. She lunged for her cell, staring anxiously at the white screen. When the message flashed, she sank back down, heavy with disappointment.

_What did you think it would be?_ She knew the GPS on Chuck's watch had been destroyed. The tone hadn't been a call; it was a programmed reminder.

_Dinner at Ellie's_, it read.

_Already?_ She couldn't believe it was already Friday. That meant Chuck had been missing for two days. Two miserably long days and nights.

She laughed weakly. _Only two? _

Sarah stared at the pre-programmed message. It was getting late. Ellie was going to call. She was surprised the woman hadn't done so already.

The conversation was inevitable but Sarah had never prepared for something like this. This wasn't supposed to be happening.

_Do it now while you have it together. _

She laughed again. Did she really?

Sarah likened the call to ripping off a band-aid. Quick and fast. She needed the peace of mind. She needed to call before Ellie got suspicious. Sarah punched in the numbers and pressed the phone to her ear, her resolve weakening with each dialtone. What was she going to say?

By the third ring she thought she would be spared, but Ellie picked up just as Sarah let her guard down.

"Hello?"

Sarah felt the invisible noose around her neck close tight.

"Hello?" Ellie asked again.

Sarah strained to find her voice. "Ellie?" she asked, her voice nearly breaking at the first syllable. She hid her tears, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud.

"Sarah!" the woman cried, both surprised and happy to hear from her. "Hey…gosh, I totally forgot about tonight! I'm so sorry! But don't worry, I've got something in the oven now…"

Sarah listened in disbelief. Ellie had forgotten about Friday dinner?

"It's been such a crazy week, I think I'm going to lose my mind," the brunette continued. "Oh, you'll never believe what Devon did…"

Sarah closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Crazy week indeed.

"Ellie…" she whispered, afraid she would lose her calm if she spoke any louder. "Something's…" she sighed. "Something's come up."

The woman had to have a sixth sense because even miles away, connected by only a wireless signal, she seemed to sense that something was wrong.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

Okay? Okay was relative. She hadn't been in a horrific car accident and the doctor hadn't given her a terminal sentence. Physically she was _okay_. But the rest of her, the part she had for years neglected, she wasn't so sure.

The most terrible part was the waiting, the countdown to the catastrophe and the agonizing minutes that passed until she knew what lay in store for her.

Sarah listened to the silence on the other end. She didn't know what to say. Ellie was going to hate her the same way Chuck hated her.

She could see it now, the same look of betrayal in the woman's eyes. But instead of fear and hurt, Ellie's eyes glowed dark with loathing. She would never allow her to be with Chuck again. She would tear them apart if this hadn't already.

Before Sarah could break down completely, she bit into her knuckles hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain was enough to distract her and silence her all at the same time.

Suddenly there was a cry on the other end, the sound growing louder and more distinct as the seconds passed. She heard Ellie sigh on the other end.

"Oh, here we go again," she groaned. "Hey, Sarah, you still there?"

"Ye-yeah…" she whispered, releasing her hand from her jaws. "I just wanted to tell you that Chuck's gone on a last minute trip."

The lie came out before she even had a chance to catch herself. She clenched her jaw; it hadn't been what she wanted. She wanted to be honest with her.

"Oh…" Ellie said, surprised. Sarah had never been so grateful for the baby. Any other time and the woman would have wanted details but tonight her mind was elsewhere. "Well that's okay, the three—four of us can have dinner."

It was too much. Sarah knew she was going to lose Ellie too. And then there would be no one. Just her…and her work.

Sarah covered the receiver end of the phone, unable to hold back the torrent of tears building up inside of her. She had been a million people on the phone; every accent, every background—lied through her teeth to save her own skin, but putting on this façade of normalcy was killing her.

"Hello? Sarah? Sarah, you there?"

"Yeah?" Sarah whispered, putting the phone back to her ear. "Sorry…distracted…"

Ellie laughed congenially. "I know what you mean. So are you coming for dinner?"

Sarah shook her head. "Sorry, Ellie," she whispered. She looked distractedly at the mound of used Kleenex balls on the coffee table, wondering what she'd done with herself these last forty-eight hours. "I've got work to do."

The answer would never on any other night been a satisfactory excuse but just then the baby began to howl, saving Sarah from making a better excuse.

Ellie groaned. "Okay, I have to go! Next Friday then!" she said all in a rush before the line went dead.

Sarah placed the phone back down on the table, trembling at her words. Next Friday? She didn't know if she would survive to tomorrow.

"It'll be alright."

Sarah jumped, reaching for the gun buried under the pile of tissues. She raised it at the unarmed intruder who immediately held up his hands.

"Whoa, just me," Bryce said, stepping out of the hallway corridors and into the living room. "You can put down the gun."

Sarah trembled, wondering how much of the exchange he'd seen. "How long have you been here?"

Bryce said nothing, but looking into his eyes, she knew he had been here long enough.

"You need to rest," he said, his tone full of worry. "Look—"

"No," Sarah said before he could finish. "I can't rest." She rose off the couch, weapon still in hand. "What have you found?"

Bryce leaned against the wall, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. "You're not on the case, Sarah."

"Like hell," Sarah spat, pointing the gun at him. "What did you find?" she demanded, her voice rising into a high-pitched scream.

Bryce stalked over to her, putting himself millimeters from the barrel of the gun. "Or what, you'll shoot?" he challenged, his eyes losing none of their piercing quality. He walked so close Sarah felt the gun in her hand push back.

Sarah's hand began to tremble. She couldn't even rest her finger on the trigger. The memory of Chuck's scream as the gunshot rang through the parkade provoked all sorts of feelings that left her emotionally beaten and bruised.

In one swift move, Bryce knocked the gun out of her hand. Sarah gasped. She hadn't even seen it coming, had no way of preventing it.

All she could do was stare dumbly up at Bryce.

"You didn't even hear me come in," he accused. "You can't even protect yourself much less Chuck. Let me handle this."

Sarah's face screwed with fury. "I am his wife!"

"I know," he said, holding her steady.

"Do you expect me to just sit here and wait while he's…" she could finish the words. Chuck hadn't been nabbed off the street or taken at gunpoint. He had run away from her on his own free will. "He's out there and he has no idea—"

"I know," Bryce stressed, the veneer of his patience beginning to crack. "But this isn't an emergency."

Sarah could hardly believe her ears. "What did you just say?" Bryce was lucky the gun was out of her hand; she would have shot him point blank for that, agent or no agent.

"Chuck's just an ordinary guy. He got scared and he ran off, okay?"

"Chuck's with Jill**,"** Sarah stressed. Was that not concerning enough?

"Who you shot in the chest. I saw. She couldn't have survived longer than a few hours," Bryce reminded. "I've got men posted at every hospital and clinic. It's been two days."

Sarah's ears burned at the words. She had to remind herself over and over again that Bryce's priority was Jill, not Chuck. Chuck was a civilian.

"And what if she isn't dead? What if _they_ have Chuck?"

Bryce sighed with impatience. "What are they going to do? He doesn't know anything; his involvement with the agency is nonexistent. What good would it do to hold him?"

Sarah didn't have a good answer. "You talk as if you don't care," she accused.

Bryce glared hard and steadfast at her, daring her to say it again. Sarah swallowed slowly. She was neither right nor wrong. Bryce cared, but not to the degree and depth she did.

_Of course not, he didn't fire the gun_.

Sarah shuddered at the memory. Why had she done it? What had compelled her to pull the trigger?

It was the sight of Jill's arms ensnared around Chuck's torso, dragging him into her web of lies. Even now the memory of it drove a knife through her heart. It evoked all of her most primal instincts to protect Chuck. She saw now that Jill had manipulated her again, the same way she had years ago.

"When I first came, I thought I could convince you to change your mind," Bryce said slowly. Then he looked at her, his eyes full of question and doubt. "But I can see now that you are not the same person you once were."

Sarah was speechless. He had given her too much to snap at; the fact he had the gall to lay out his true intentions, to judge her when he had wanted to pull the trigger just as badly as herself, to tell her that she was not fit to return.

"Chuck will be fine," he dismissed. Sarah narrowed her eyes. What was he really trying to say? That this was just a domestic dispute that had gotten out of hand? Was he going to start pulling statistics about all the husbands who left their wives?

Sarah felt like she was about to break out in tears again. Was that all this was? Was she going to be handed a restraining order and divorce papers and that would be the end of it?

"Don't worry, it's going to be okay." He smiled at her but there was no truth in his eyes. He didn't think there was much hope for her.

"Get out," Sarah growled. "Get out now."

Bryce reached for her but she swatted his hand away. "You need to rest, Sarah."

"I'll be fine once you leave," she spat. "As you can see there's not much more in my life you can ruin. I think your job here is done."

Bryce frowned, the fine lines in his face deepening into full-fledged wrinkles. He smiled a cold, heartless smile.

"I didn't do much, you were doing just fine on your own," he reminded. "If you had told him everything in the beginning, he would have trusted you about Jill. But you didn't. You had two years and you didn't tell him anything."

Sarah clenched her fists. The fury she felt building up inside of her was undeniable, but she knew it was not all directed at Bryce.

"We were trying to move on from all that," she said, convincing not even her herself. She had been selfish, trying to hide all the times she'd hurt him or acted unfairly. She didn't want him to see her for what she truly was—damaged goods. A woman more infinitely complicated than the numbers to Pi.

Bryce didn't even bat an eyelash. She was fooling no one.

"Get out," Sarah said. She couldn't stand his accusing glare any longer. "_Get out _or I will throw you out!"

Bryce sighed. "I'm just looking out for you," he said.

She didn't need someone watching out for her. She needed him to focus on Chuck.

"Get out!" Sarah screamed. She took a wild swing at him, losing her balance and falling in the process. Bryce ducked out of the way, missing her easily. Before the hands could help her, she screamed again.

"Get out!"

Sarah trained her eyes on the floor, only raising them when she heard the footsteps retreat and the door close behind him.

At last she was alone, so utterly and completely alone.

Sarah stared at the carpet, unable to summon the strength and will to get back on both feet. What was the point, when she would just fall again? There would be no one to catch her. Never ever again.

The tears began to pour from her eyes. She had enough for the world, an infinite supply for every man, woman and child. Her breaths became ragged and she felt like she was floundering on the open seas with no one to pull her back.

What do you do when you've lost everything?

Sarah closed her eyes. You drown.

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_As always, i'd love to hear your thoughts. Will you review if i promise minimal tears and maybe some chuck/sarah? haha, is bribery allowed on this site? _


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: __I probably don't need to say this, but just read carefully between the italics and normal letters. i don't want to confuse any of you. As promised, this is another "light-hearted" chapter. And because you were all so sweet to me, i guess i've got some chuck/sarah too. _

_

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_Chapter 14:

_Sarah calls on a Wednesday afternoon to tell him she has to work late. A rarity, that. _

_"Right…they closed down the bank so you could attend to Steve Jobs' debit transactions." Chuck leans back in the chair of his office, staring straight at a picture of them together. _

_There's a laugh on the other end. "Actually, it's Donald Trump and he wants me to manage his personal accounts." _

_"Really?" Chuck falls forward, nearly crashing into the table. "Honey…that's wonderful—" _

_"No, silly," she chides and Chuck blushes at his naivety. "I have to balance some paperwork. It won't take me too long but I don't want you to wait up." _

_"But I want to." _

_He hears her sigh on the other end. "Well I don't." _

"_I don't mind, really." _

"_Well I do." Her tone is still light, but he knows as well as she does that there can only be one victor in this repartee. _

"_You always wait even when I tell you my meetings will run late." _

_He hears her fight between a sigh of exasperation and a laugh. "That's because I—" He already knows the answer before she does. _

"_Want to…right?" Chuck smiles. He can almost see her with her lips pressed into a pout; Sarah could be such a sore loser sometimes. _

"_Fine. Don't come crying to me when you starve." _

_Chuck laughs. "If I don't go crying to you, who will I go to?" He's tempted to bring up Carmen's name but somehow he senses Sarah would be less than amused. _

"_Smart man, Mr. Bartowski." She gives a groan and he thinks he hears papers fall over the edge of a desk. "And you're also proving to be a huge distraction." _

"_You're the one who called," he says, nearly sticking out his tongue. _

"_And now I'm hanging up on you." He pauses and waits to hear the _click_ but instead she speaks again. "I love you, Chuck." _

_It takes him off-guard when she ends their playful banter with something so heavy. The emotion in her voice makes his heart jump, almost like the first time he heard her utter those three words, and it's moments like this that make Chuck realize that even after all this time, his wife is still full of surprises. _

_. _

_Chuck wants to surprise her with dinner so he orders take-out and shows up at the bank. The security guard recognizes him and lets him into the darkened building. _

"_Go ahead." The security guard gestures to the half-swing door marked with an 'employees only' sign. "Your wife is working in the back office." _

_The remark brings a smile to his face._ His wife._ He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing it. _

_The offices and cubicles are unfamiliar territory and he's lost until he hears her voice. It's coming from the break room and it's not the only one. There's someone else speaking, a deeper voice. _

_Chuck doesn't know why but his hands are suddenly perspiring and he's filled with preemptive dread. Like having caterpillars before they're full grown butterflies in his gut. He holds his breath until he's at the threshold, and then braces himself as he peeks over the corner. _

_She's talking to someone, a man. He's tall, annoyingly handsome and twice Chuck's build. They're standing closer than what Chuck thinks is appropriate for _just_ coworkers and with every second that passes, he thinks he sees the man lean nearer. _

_Chuck clears his throat and the both of them look abruptly at him. _

"_Chuck!" Sarah smiles and it's so wide he can't tell if it's relief, nerves, or simply excitement to see him. _

_Chuck holds up the brownbag. "I picked up some supper," he says, feeling suddenly awkward and inadequate. He should have worn his suit today instead of the sweater-vest. Next to this suited stranger, he feels like a choir-boy. _

"_Oh, you didn't have to do that," she says, but he can tell she's pleased nevertheless. _

_The stranger seems to take the hint and makes an excuse to take off. His gaze lingers on Sarah but she hardly spares him a second look and nods absent-mindedly when he says goodbye. He nods a brief acknowledgment in Chuck's direction, but Chuck is all too familiar with the nature of the game and without trying, can detect that he's being sized up and passed off. _

_When the hulk is out of the room, Chuck asks her who the competition was. _

_Sarah shrugs. "I don't know, I think he works in finance." Her obliviousness is startling. _

"_What was he saying to you?" _

_She shrugs again. Her brows wrinkle slightly as she tries to recall their conversation. "I don't know, something about a football game this weekend and seats?" Suddenly her eyes widen and she tilts her chin up at him. "Mr. Bartowski, are you _jealous?"_ she asks, with the most devilish grin on her face. _

_Chuck blushes. "No! Don't be ridiculous." _

_But the more he denies, the deeper he reddens until he has no choice but to hide his face behind the take-out bag. _

"_I don't believe this," she admonishes, crossing her arms. Chuck swears if she didn't look so damn adorable when she gloated, he would have accused her of flirting with her coworker. _

_She jerks her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the man long gone. "_Him?_" She makes a face. "Really?" _

_Chuck sighs. "Yes. Really." He admits it completely, knowing it's not the first—nor will it be the last, time he's caught a man ogling his wife. _

_His sober expression wipes the smile from Sarah's face. "Chuck…" she says, her eyes darkening. "You don't honestly think I'd be attracted to him." _

_He shrugs. "Maybe not him. But someday…someone…there's a lot of really great guys out there…" There it was again. That feeling; like all he could offer her were dandelions when she was already surrounded by roses. _

_Now Sarah was really mad. "Charles Irving Bartowski," she intoned, stressing out every syllable of his name. "Listen to me very carefully." She grabs a handful of his vest and reels him in until their lips are millimeters apart. "In my eyes there is only you." _

_Chuck doesn't know what to say. _

"_Did you hear me?" _

_._

"Did you hear me?"

That voice. Chuck flinched and shook his head.

_. _

_"Did you hear me?" Sarah asks. _

_Chuck nods obediently. _

_"Good." She smiles and her eyes spark with electric blue. "Repeat it." _

_._

"Mr. Bartowski, did you hear me? Don't make me repeat myself."

There it was again. Chuck realized what was happening but he didn't want to hear it.

.

_"Repeat it._"

_"In my eyes there is only you," he reiterates, like a schoolboy learning his letters. _

_Sarah smiles and clasps his face with both her hands, anchoring it in front of her. "And don't you ever forget it."_

_._

"Have you forgotten, Mr. Bartowski, we had an arrangement."

_One more minute, just one more minute._

.

_"Say it one more time." _

_There is no hesitation this time. He believes it wholeheartedly. _

"_In my eyes there is only you." Chuck throws the brownbag against the counter as he wraps his arms around her waist. Sarah's eyes light up and she raises her chin at the unspoken challenge. _

_"Good," she breathes. "Now shut up and kiss me." _

_._

"Mr. Bartowski!"

Chuck opened his eyes and then it was all over. Like a bird shot out of the sky, he felt his body crash down against the narrow cot, back into reality.

Camille's hawk-like eyes gazed down at him. "Mr. Bartowski," she greeted, a smile spreading across her lips. "Did you sleep well? Pleasant dreams I hope."

_A dream? _No. It was no dream.

_A memory then._

Chuck rubbed his palm over his lips. A sudden sadness washed over him as he realized it may not have been any more real than a dream. His life had been full of lies, after all.

Camille was not one for dwelling on thoughts. Satisfied that he was awake, she sauntered towards the door.

"Get dressed, Mr. Bartowski, we have a long day ahead of us."

Chuck stared blankly up at the ceiling. Somehow he had a feeling her words would prove prophetic.

_

Chuck sat in front of the computer, running his fingers across the polished keys. It was so new it still had the smell of packaging to it, that strange mix of chemicals likely responsible for burning a hole through the ozone.

The machine was state of the art; it gave him shivers to even bask in its presence…and this woman wanted him to use it, actually _use _it_? _

"I want you to build us another Intersect," Camille informed, towering over him. She refused to take a seat even though there were plenty of chairs in the room. Chuck wondered why the statuesque woman saw the need to wear stiletto heels when she was taller than everyone else in the facility. It felt redundant.

"Did you hear me, Chuck?

"What about my family? What's going to happen to them?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "We've already told you. They'll be fine."

"But Sarah knows them. Sarah knows where they work, their phone numbers, we have a spare key to their house—" Chuck's heart began to race. If anything happened to his family, to Ellie, he'd never forgive himself.

Camille placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder before he could even think of leaving his seat. Thin as she was, she could place a surprisingly large amount of force through her hand.

"We have people monitoring them at all times. Don't worry, Chuck."

But Chuck _was_ worried. Camille reminded him of a black widow spider, the kind of woman who'd consume her mate after she was done with him. A literal maneater.

"Can I call them?"

Camille squeezed his shoulder, ever-so-gently being a subjective term. "Don't you think she'll be waiting for you to call? She'll trace it back here; she'll find us and kill us all."

Chuck gulped. "You're being a little overdramatic don't you think?"

The question caused the statuesque woman to throw her head back and laugh. It was a humorless laugh though. "Chuck, I give you my word. And the sooner you do this for us, the sooner we can stop them and go on with our lives." She paused. "You want that, don't you?"

Chuck clamped down on his tongue. She was only going to laugh again if he told her that he didn't have a life to return to. "I suppose," he said. A diplomatic way of saying no.

Camille smiled. "Good." She released him from her hold and pointed at the computer monitor. "Now, we need you to build us an Intersect."

Chuck laughed quietly, trying to shake off some of the tension in the room. "What's that?"

Camille frowned. "Something you worked on before," she said flatly.

Chuck threw his hands up in the air. "But I don't know how." What the heck was an Intersect? What was he trying to intersect?

Camille forced a smile and returned her hand to Chuck's shoulder, squeezing as a warning. "Try," she said, as if it was a magical word. As if Chuck only had to _try_ and everything would come together.

"Camille, I'm sorry. You know I don't remember anything. If I could I would." He could tell it was not the correct answer. Camille's eyes glowered dangerously. She was like a ticking time-bomb and Chuck was playing guesswork with the wires.

"Chuck—"

"It's not his fault." Jill appeared suddenly in the room. Her feet and legs were bare and the blue fabric of her hospital gown peeked through the bottom of an oversized sweater.

"Jill!" Chuck cried, jumping to meet her at the door. "You shouldn't be up. You need to rest."

Jill smiled at the display of concern. "I wanted to see how you were doing here," she said. "How are things?" The latter part seemed redundant judging by the expression on Camille's face.

The taller brunette marched over to them, purposefully walking inbetween them. Chuck had no choice but to step away from Jill.

"See what you can do," Camille said, her words directed at Jill. "I need a break."

Chuck flushed with embarrassment. He had only been in the room for an hour and the woman already found him hopeless.

They walked back over to the computer desk. "I wish I could help," Chuck said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just don't remember."

Jill gazed softened. She reached out to smooth a stray curl in front of his eyes but Chuck couldn't bear the reminder and caught her hand. It was Sarah's thing. In fact he grew out his hair longer than he liked for the very reason, the same reason he purposely fudged his tie every morning and left his shirt collar uneven.

Hurt reflected in Jill's eyes but Chuck hoped she would understand. It hurt him just as much.

"You shouldn't be here. You need to recover your strength."

Jill smiled. "Thank you, Chuck," she said quietly. "But I was getting restless…and I missed you."

Her intentions were not lost on him. Chuck gulped nervously and trained his eyes back on the computer screen. "I'd walk you back, Jill, but you know I don't have a card."

She raised her brows in question, kicking his shins with her bare feet. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" she asked, clutching her chest in pain.

Chuck immediately regretted his words. He rushed to her side, his hands hovering to catch her in case she should fall. "Are you alright? Do I need to call a doctor?"

There was a moment of tense silence before he heard the unmistakable sound of laughter and caught her grimacing as she tried to suppress it. His expression changed and he plopped down in his seat.

"Serves you right," he grumbled.

Jill laughed weakly. "You're too gullible, Chuck," she teased. But the joke carried stronger connotations than their innocent banter and any humor quickly evaporated from the room. "Sorry," she whispered.

Chuck turned so his back was to her. He clamped down on his tongue, unwilling to dwell on the thought.

"It's okay," he shrugged, though it was anything but. "So what is an Intersect?"

Jill sank slowly into the seat beside him. She stared at the blank monitor, and Chuck wondered what she was thinking now.

"It was a program," she finally said. "It processed information and found patterns in an incredibly effective and efficient manner." She turned to him, her eyes filled with melancholy. "You were the forefront designer. You gave the program its brain, its thought-processor."

Chuck still wasn't sure how he did it, but it was a far better explanation than Carmen had given.

"That shouldn't be too hard…" He ran his hand across the keyboard again. "What happened to the last one?"

Jill gnawed on the corner of her lips. "Computer crash," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Okay…well then you should just get someone to fix it. Why do you need me?"

Jill smiled wryly. "It's not that easy. The files were encrypted into a series of images. Thousands of these images were compressed into one. The association was mapped, of course, so while we see only a simple picture or a collection of unrelated images, the computer sees the files hidden within them."

She tilted her head as she looked at him. "Does any of that make sense, Chuck?"

Surprisingly, yes. "But why do you need me to do this? I'm sure there are very qualified computer nerds, even nerdier than me, out there—"

"We've tried," she said, defeat at the tip of her tongue. "You were the primary designer. I know you don't remember, but our programmers have already tried everything they could. The data is all there but it just sits there."

Well of course it did. His eyes widened as he looked at Jill. Did she not realize what was being asked of him?

"You want me to make this come to 'life'?" he asked, feeling obliged to use airquotes in order to emphasize the absurdness of the request.

Jill's eyes brightened. It was exactly what she wanted.

"You did it once," she said. And to her, it must seem so simple. "Just try," she added, using Camille's magic word. When Chuck did not refuse, she smiled.

It was the miniscule silver lining to their dire situation, being able to remember better days. He hadn't seen a smile like that since their time at Stanford.

"Thank you," she whispered. She reached out and stroked his hair, her fingers brushing against his left temple, lingering at the pale white scar. Chuck froze as she stroked the only memory he had of his life-altering operation. "Did it hurt?"

Chuck shook his head. He smiled slowly for her, trying to infuse humor into something that felt more like a curse. "I don't remember."

Jill's face fell and she reached for his hand, covering his with hers. "I'm really sorry about all this," she said, lining up their fingers so hers would fit inbetween each web of his. "I know you feel really lost right now."

Chuck swallowed back the bitterness that built up in his throat. How could she know? How could she know what it was like to lose five years of her life, five years in which everything seemed to change? Did she know how hard it was to always rely on someone else's word for everything?

"I want to help, Chuck."

Chuck looked down at their hands together. Even when she tried, Chuck could see that her hand was too small to be atop his. It was an imperfect fit.

"You're upset, I know. It's my fault for leaving you." Jill leaned close to him. "You have to realize that you need to let go now. Everything that's happened…none of that's real."

Chuck shook his head. "That's not fair," he said. How does someone live every single moment of their life as a lie?

"Remember when I broke up with you and pretended to be with Bryce?" She shook his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "Do you remember that?"

Chuck nodded reluctantly. Of course he remembered. He had spent the greater part of five years haunted by her betrayal.

"That felt real, didn't it?" Jill squeezed his hand, her features tainted with guilt. "I lied to you, Chuck. My superiors told me that it wasn't safe for you to be near me. I had to get rid of you somehow."

A long silence grew between them but Chuck allowed it to fester, at a loss for words of his own.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Jill asked. "I'm not as good as Sarah, okay? She even had me fooled; she fooled us all. So don't think for a second that any of it was real."

Chuck wrenched his hand free of hers and wheeled himself to the opposite side of the desk. His chest ached as the memories rushed through his head. Real memories to him but not real to the rest of the world.

"Chuck?" Jill's voice was pitched with alarm.

Chuck closed his eyes. It was only eight in the morning and he already had a headache.

"Chuck, please. You need to forget about what's happened." She squeezed his shoulder for emphasis. "Do you understand?"

Chuck stared straight ahead. He nodded ever so slightly to ease Jill's peace of mind. When he turned to gauge her reaction, she beamed back at him, her eyes as warm as molten chocolate.

He wished that was all he saw, but he couldn't shake away the image of Sarah that appeared in the back of his mind. He could see it play out before him like a movie, the way she pressed her lips together and then reluctantly allowed the smile to grow, slowly, wider and wider, until he could hear her laugh and call out his name. He saw her sparkling blue eyes, deep like an ocean, reflecting as if the sun were dancing across the surface, and the wind blow through her hair, each strand golden like canola blossoms. That was real. The most real thing he knew.

Erasing the last two years was not going to be like the previous five. _But…_

"I'll try," he said, closing his eyes.

* * *

_after the last chapter, i had no idea so many ppl belonged to the 'i hate bryce' fanclub. i think i got more requests for bryce to get offed than jill. review please?  
_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Hellllloooo i'm back! So my computer crashed and i had to live in the stone age for several days until it was fixed. It's working now...sort of. Sorry! The upside is i've forgotten how angsty i made this story so you never know, it might read lighter than light-hearted. I'll probably find my groove again by next chapter.  
_

_A million thanks to **aardvark **for beta'ing this chapter, steering me in the right direction and helping me find a more suitable ending. You're _awesome!

_

* * *

_Chapter 15:

Sarah's eyes glazed over as she looked down at the reams of paper on her desk. Every few seconds her eyes darted to the closed office door. Every meaningless discussion in the hallway, every knock on wood or phone ring, even those that weren't hers, was enough for her to perk her ears like a neurotic puppy. Little distractions were all she needed now to lose her focus.

Sarah rubbed her temples and looked back down at the file. Something about a drug cartel. Possibly sensitive documents stolen. What did it matter really? Was this really what she had given up her life for—this meaningless paperwork?

_You love your job, remember? Normal was too boring; you wanted more. _Sarah gritted her teeth. She'd never hated that annoying voice in her head as much as she did now.

She sifted through the folders, hanging onto the vague hope that maybe Chuck's file would accidentally find its way into her mailbox. Of course there were no accidents in the agency. Anyone who was anyone knew her record, the way she'd irreconcilably compromised herself, how unpredictable she could be in the field.

Sarah was out of options. She'd called all his work associates and even made a long distance call to Morgan. No one had heard from him. Bryce was her best shot and he wasn't telling her anything.

She'd driven to all his favorite places only to realize she had no hope of finding someone who didn't want to be found. As the days passed, it looked more and more like Chuck had left with no intention of returning. He was probably not even in L.A..

She considered calling Bryce for the millionth time today. Sarah thought she was probably a phone call away from being blocked. She could tell he was getting frustrated too.

_You're not an agent anymore,_ he'd said. _You're not on the case. Do your job and I'll do mine._

What Bryce meant was office-time. Long, baneful hours shut away behind four walls. Sarah wondered how she used to get through it all. Had she really found the work fulfilling?

Sarah saw that her hands were shaking and she knew she had to put an end to it before she broke down again. There was only so much her nerves could take. Habitually her hands reached for the photo she'd placed face-down on her desk. She hadn't been able to look at it since and today was no different. The tips of her fingers touched against the wooden frame but no more.

_Tomorrow will be better_.

Hearing the voice chilled her. How poor were the odds when even your conscience felt bad for you?

Sarah closed her eyes. She was so tired, more tired than she'd ever been in her entire life, but she couldn't sleep. Not when Chuck was still out there somewhere. Even when her body gave in and she lapsed into unconsciousness, she would always wake in cold sweat, his expression of fear and betrayal seared forever into the back of her eyes.

Sarah sighed and scribbled a few things into her report. She looked at the door again, sympathizing for all the caged animals at the zoo. She didn't feel like it was safe to leave until she was the last person in the building—not since one of the tellers had approached her and asked why she looked so _rough. _

Then the speculations began. The people she called her colleagues seemed to revel in her downfall and though Sarah was not one who was sensitive to petty words, she could not face them, or rather, the awful truth they posed.

If they thought her husband was too good for her, they were right. If they thought he'd finally left her, they were correct. And if they had a betting pool on how many hours she could spend inside an office without stepping out, she would wager all day.

_

The last staff member left the bank at seven—remarkably late for a Friday night. It made Sarah wonder if he was just as lonely as she was. She mailed off her reports, packed her bags, and left for the apartment. She refused to think of it as her home. Without Chuck it was just a place like any other place, only this one had her name on the lease.

Sarah was grateful for the lack of rush hour traffic. She turned up the radio as loud as she could to drown out her despairing thoughts, and pressed down hard on the gas, passing the cars in a blur. She could drive as fast as she wanted but she could never escape. She wondered if it was even worth the drive, transferring from one prison to another.

Sarah made it to the apartment in half the time. It was pitch dark inside and she kept it that way, navigating through the corridors by memory alone. Untouched take-out boxes piled the kitchen table. She threw the mail onto the growing pile on the stone counter and moved her way to the mess in the living room. The bedroom door remained closed. She couldn't sleep there.

Without bothering to change, she collapsed on the couch. Nine days. It had only been nine days.

_Only._ The notion had never seemed so trivial. On one hand nine days had felt like nothing the last time her and Chuck took a real vacation, and on the other, she could not believe she had survived nine whole days without him.

With one hand rubbing her temple, trying to ward off the inevitable migraine, she used the other to press the phone to her ear. It had become a habit, really. She waited while it rang, knowing it would pick up sooner than later.

_

Sarah closed her eyes for what felt like a minute, but at the slamming of the door she was thrown back into the cruel light of reality.

She looked blearily up at the ceiling fixture, wondering who would have the audacity to flick the switch.

"Sarah?" For a second, as she struggled to find her way back into consciousness, she thought it might have been someone else.

Sarah didn't dare show her disappointment as she sat up in the couch. "What time is it?" she whispered.

"Eight," he replied, sounding a little breathless.

Eight. _Only _eight.

"You called. What is it?"

Sarah shook her head slowly, wondering how he could even ask a question so obtuse.

"Have you—" Before she could even finish her sentence, she could see his disappointment. "Have you heard anything?" she asked anyway. It was his fault if he expected any more from her.

"I told you, Sarah," he said, crossing his arms. "You're not on the case."

Sarah stood up, hastily combing her hands through her hair. She was a sight and she knew it.

"Then let me," she said. "Tell them I want to be on the case, Bryce." She walked up to him, determined to push this as much in his face as she could. He had wanted this, after all, hadn't he?

"Tell them I want back in."

Bryce averted her gaze. "You're in no condition," he said. "They'd never let you."

Sarah clenched her fists, tempted to prove him wrong. "Then I'll tell them," she said. "It's what they've always wanted, isn't it?"

Bryce cut into his lips, still avoiding her gaze. She had a chance then, even though they thought she was compromised, they'd still take her back.

"They're not going to put you on this case," he warned. "You were compromised then, and you're compromised a thousand times over now. Besides, he's not a priority; I'm not even supposed to be on this case. I'm doing this—"

"As what?" She dared him to say it. "A _courtesy?_" The word disgusted her. He could tell her in a dozen different ways that he wasn't like the other agents, but his actions betrayed him. He was exactly like the rest of them; intelligent and willful though he was, Bryce was still a sheep.

His primary task had been to recover Jill, it was the sole reason he hadn't left L.A.. Chuck was simply a byproduct, a secondary objective whose completion was optional.

"If it weren't for Jill, would you even be here?"

_If it hadn't been for Jill, would any of this have happened?_

Bryce took a deep breath. "Look, Sarah…" He tried to place a hand on her shoulder but she took a step back before he could. It did little to deter him. "I know Chuck. I know how he's feeling. And what you're about to do…it's not going to help."

Sarah couldn't believe her ears. All the pain in her body faded as her system was overtaken by a torrent of wild emotions.

"How dare you!" she accused, trembling with rage. Before she knew what was happening, her hands were already seized around Bryce's collar. "What do you know? You don't even care about him!"

Bryce gazed at her with a mask of indifference. He pried her fingers one-by-one off his crumpled shirt and held her steady, his hands like a restraint wrapped around her wrists.

"I know you're not thinking things through," he said. "You need to be logical about this, Sarah. Don't make another mistake you're going to just regret."

Sarah winced; he had wounded her more deeply with the reminder than if he had simply struck her with a blunt instrument.

"You quit for a reason. Don't you remember?"

Sarah stared up at him, finally seeing the truth in those pale blue orbs.

She did.

The words sent Sarah back to the early days following Chuck's operation. She had returned to the agency fully prepared to start living the life of her new identity. It should have been everything she'd wanted, but all she wanted to be was Sarah Walker. Chuck's Sarah.

She'd given it all up without a second thought. The agency's threats had sounded so petty to her ears; her losses had felt so insubstantial then. Not like the loss she felt now, the kind that made her feel like the ground could swallow her whole.

"You come back, and it won't be so easy to leave this time." He shook her by the shoulders. "Did you hear me?"

Sarah looked up at him. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked. "I need him. I need him back."

The instant she said the words, she could see the look of pity grow in Bryce's eyes. He probably thought she was pathetic; she had become the weak, insensible sort of woman he'd always despised.

_So what?_ Was she not allowed to be human? Was she not allowed emotions?

If he posed the question and asked her how far she would go, Sarah already knew her answer. Bryce seemed to too, which was why he did not ask.

"I care…" Bryce said as he finally let her go, allowing her to sway unsteadily on her own. "That's why I'm doing this."

Sarah closed her eyes. As much as she hated Bryce right now, she knew he was right. She gave up that life for Chuck, and returning to it would not bring him back to her.

"Is that a no, then?" she asked, taking a deep breath.

Bryce ran a hand through his hair. "Get some sleep, Sarah."

_

It was still dark when Sarah opened her eyes. She couldn't be sure if she was part of a dream or a memory, but she knew better than to delude herself this time. She was in bed, and Chuck was lying beside her, fast asleep.

A lump formed in Sarah's throat and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe. She could feel the warmth of his body; hear the sound of his even breaths. When she reached out and laid a careful hand on his chest, it was met with something solid. Something so substantially real.

Did her mind have the power to do this?

"Chuck?" she whispered. "Chuck, wake up," she urged, shaking him gently.

He moaned, his entire face scrunching with annoyance.

"Chuck," she persisted, determined to rouse him. "Chuck, please open your eyes."

With a sigh, he did as she asked, looking drowsily through the darkness into hers. His eyes brought light into the dark room; eyes filled with so much warmth she could feel it radiate over her entire body.

"Is this real?" She waited on bated breath, wondering if a dream would speak the truth. When Chuck did not respond, she rested her hand against his cheek, confirming once more for herself that he was indeed solid flesh and blood.

His response took her by surprise. "Was any of this real?"

Sarah didn't understand.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I," she said. Not a question but a fact. Things that were too good to be true usually were. If this was the real Chuck, he wouldn't allow her to stroke his hair like she was now. Slow gentle circles, tangling her fingers into the curls she'd been pining for.

Sarah wrinkled her brows. "Is this a dream?" she asked again. "Is this real?" She brought her face ever closer to his. She needed him to tell her, to crush her hopes so she wouldn't delude herself any longer, because every moment of doubt was torture.

"No," he breathed, but that didn't make his presence any less real for her.

"Am I dreaming then?"

"Yes."

Strange as it was, the words came as a relief. Sarah let go of all hope and sank back into the bed, her long limbs sprawled over his.

"Okay," she breathed, taking his hand. It was a perfect match, as if his fingers had been spaced for hers alone.

They held hands in silence, and she did everything possible to hold the all-too-familiar sensation of disappointment at bay. She didn't know how long she had before this ended. A second? A minute?

"How do I make this last?" she asked. "I want you to stay with me, forever."

Chuck turned his head against the pillow and smiled. "There is no such thing as forever."

That was right. She didn't believe in forever. It felt so odd hearing Chuck, the eternal optimist, speak her thoughts.

She pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him before he could echo any more of her pessimism. Any second now this moment would end and she had all her conscious hours to argue with herself.

A tightness formed in Sarah's throat. "Chuck?"

He raised his brows despite the fact his eyelids were starting to droop. "Go back to sleep, Sarah," he whispered. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"No," she said, shaking her head sadly. "You have to stay awake." She shook him by the shoulders, trying to keep him with her.

Chuck furrowed his brows. He moaned into the pillow, the lure of the unconscious too great to ignore.

"Can't…"

Sarah squeezed his hand. "Chuck?"

There was a pause. "What?" he finally asked, speaking into the pillow.

"Kiss me, please."

Chuck's eyes fluttered open and he smiled a smile that stretched from ear to ear. The sight of it nearly killed her.

"Please?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement. Sarah managed a weak smile.

"Don't make me ask twice," she warned, finding it hard to tease him after all they'd been through.

Sarah closed her eyes and banished all rational thought from her mind. She didn't want to analyze, didn't want to validate. When Chuck's lips met hers, she felt a swell of emotion as real as anything she'd ever experienced. The connection was as terrifying as the first time she'd ever kissed him, really kissed him, with the same knowledge that all they had was borrowed time.

Drowning in her own happiness, Sarah ran her hands hungrily through his hair, gripping tightly onto fistfuls of brown ringlets. She traced her hands across his features the way the sightless did to see, recalling every dearly loved freckle and scar she had forgotten. Chuck was a good kisser. The best she'd ever had—not that he would ever believe her. Forget roast-beef sandwiches, if Sarah were stranded on a desert island, she would survive on this kiss alone.

Then it ended and Sarah was left pining for his touch. Chuck shifted to his side of the bed and she realized she was going to lose him.

"Did you ever love me?"

Sarah didn't understand what her mind was doing. "Yes, of course." What a silly thing to ask.

"I loved you, Sarah," he said. "I trusted you with my life."

A sharp pang struck her in the chest. She didn't want to think about this, to dwell on this, but her mind wasn't letting her go.

"I know. I never meant to hurt you," she whispered. "I was trying to protect you. Can you understand that?"

Seeing her in tears, Chuck placed his arm around her, holding her in exactly the way she needed him to. It felt so good to let him take control, to finally relinquish her grip and let someone else take care of her.

"Yeah, I can." It was the worst kind of hope. Her spirits rose until she remembered that this was only a dream, and then they crashed again.

"I'm so sorry, Chuck."

Chuck wiped away her tears and she held his hand firmly against her cheek, refusing to lose his touch for even a second.

"I know."

They looked into one another's eyes and Sarah wondered if she was reliving a memory. How often did they do this and never realize that it would someday end?

"I have to go now," Chuck said. Already he was letting go, his arms drifting from her sides.

Sarah knew it was no good to call back something that wasn't real.

"Will you come back?" she asked from the empty bed.

He cast a forlorn look in her direction. He didn't know and neither did she.

_

Sarah wasn't sure what came over her but it was too late for that. She rang the doorbell a second time, huddling in her thin dress. She had made an effort to change out of her work attire into something appropriate but she'd been distracted by Chuck's clothes. She grabbed the first dress she saw and allowed herself only a second with his standard white dress shirts, afraid she would taint them with her own scent.

In her haste, she had chosen a dress for the wrong season. This was evident when Ellie opened the door, a curious expression on her face. But the elder woman was tired, and she welcomed Sarah in without a word to her questionable attire.

"I'm sorry, Devon isn't here and the house is falling apart," Ellie excused, trying to wipe off the stain on her wrinkled cardigan. It was no understatement. A small tornado seemed to have run through the living room but Sarah wasn't one to talk.

"Well there's three people here now," she said slowly, waiting for the pain building in her chest to subside. She didn't think it would be so difficult to be here but it was. Everywhere she looked she was surrounded by memories of Chuck.

Ellie said something but it was half drowned out as she moved upstairs into the nursery. Seconds later she returned downstairs with the baby in her arms, a towel draped over her shoulder.

"Hey, can you take him for a second?" she asked distractedly. Before Sarah could even protest, Ellie unceremoniously deposited the infant into her arms.

Sarah's heart jumped and all her previous anxieties returned, only this time Chuck wasn't there to soothe them.

"I'm so sorry," Ellie said, her voice disappearing into the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind. I made soup from a can." Sarah could almost hear the cringe in the older woman's voice.

_Wow. She is tired_.

"Devon's run out for some bread. He'll be back in a second." Ellie reappeared, looking a little more put together. "Are you going to take a seat?"

Sarah nodded slowly. She hadn't taken a step since getting through the door. She sat down stiffly, afraid even the slightest change in posture would rouse the sleeping baby. He was heavier than she remembered but still just as tiny and frighteningly fragile.

Ellie threw some magazines to the floor and took a seat beside her.

"I should have cleaned earlier," she said, and sighed with exhaustion. "If I had known how much work this was going to be—" She stopped abruptly and put a hand on Sarah's shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ellie asked, shifting closer to her side.

Sarah held her breath. She counted to five, just in case, and nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Like her coworkers, Ellie's observations were astute. "You look really tired," the woman finally said, a tactful way of saying she looked like crap. And here Sarah thought she was hiding it so well. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Sarah couldn't help herself. Ellie was holding the door wide open for a confession, but it was just too hard.

"Sarah?" the older woman asked when she saw her tears. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Sarah overestimated her strength and when Ellie looked at her that way, all she saw was Chuck. Her eyes may not have been the same shade but it reflected the same care and concern that was so familiar to her.

"I miss Chuck," she cried, hugging the baby close. "I miss him so much."

Ellie wrinkled her brows. She tensed the muscles in her face but there was no way to hold back the smile on her face.

"Oh, Sarah," she said, breaking into laughter. "It's only for a few days. It's not like he's never coming back."

Sarah clenched her jaw, sobbing into William's blanket.

_Right._

"It's only for another week or so, right?" Ellie asked. Sarah felt trapped. She nodded vaguely, brushing her tears aside, but they just kept coming.

"Oh my goodness, Sarah," Ellie teased. "I've never seen you like this." She put a comforting hand on her sister-in-law, rubbing her back gently. "Are you sure there isn't some other reason you're being so emotional?"

"What?" Sarah gasped, not catching on soon enough. Ellie's grin said it all. "No, Ellie," she said.

"No chance at all?" she asked. Ellie looked so hopeful, Sarah almost felt bad quashing all her dreams.

Her own too, Sarah reminded.

Gazing down at baby William, her breath caught in her throat. This would never be hers, she realized. Even if they found Chuck, he would never love her the same way again.

Sarah stroked his sweet cherub cheeks, hastily wiping away the tears that fell onto them.

This could never be hers again. She'd lost her chance.

The baby wrinkled its face, stirring from its peaceful slumber.

"No…_shhh_…" Sarah tried to placate him but it was to no avail. She was as much a failure at being a mother as she was a wife.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah cried, looking to Ellie for help.

Ellie's initial smile fell and she looked at her sister-in-law in confusion. "It's okay, it's what babies do," she said. "Sarah, don't worry about it."

The baby squirmed in its blanket and threw back its head in a full-fledged howl.

"I'm so sorry, Ellie," Sarah cried, looking more red-faced than the infant. "I'm so sorry!"

Ellie rushed to catch the baby as Sarah stood up but she refused to hold him. Firm but forceful, the brunette pushed Sarah back down on the sofa.

"Okay. What's wrong?" she asked, ignoring the indignant howls that threatened to tear a hole through the roof.

Sarah winced, pleading with Ellie to have mercy. "Please take the baby."

"Only if you really tell me what's really wrong," she said, staring hard at her sister-in-law. "I'm not letting you leave without an explanation."

Sarah swallowed slowly. She had seen the same protectiveness extended to Chuck often enough to recognize the determination behind that stare but it was a new feeling altogether to be on the receiving end.

Wordlessly Sarah handed Ellie back her baby, sighing with relief once the burden was off her hands. It was remarkable how quickly William settled once he was in the right arms and Sarah looked on, surprised at the twinge of jealousy that momentarily distracted her from all the pain she was suffering.

"I did something terrible, Ellie," she said, sinking in her seat. She held her breath, waiting for to be swallowed whole.

Ellie's expression was complacent. "Like what?" she asked, tilting her head.

Sarah closed her eyes. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to come clean?

That wasn't fair. Information like that put those she loved in danger and that was exactly what she'd spent the last half decade trying to prevent.

"Just something terrible…" Sarah shook her head. "Just trust me."

Ellie looked at her with a critical eye but made no move to pry more information out of her. For that, Sarah was eternally grateful. It wasn't easy for someone as tenacious as her sister-in-law to just accept something without an explanation.

"Did you and Chuck have a fight?"

Sarah saw no point in holding back the burning tears. "Not exactly," she confessed, wiping her face hastily. "He's upset." Then she looked at the woman and voiced her greatest fear. "I don't know if he's ever coming back."

"Oh, Sarah." Ellie's hand went out to her. "Couples fight, that's normal," she said with an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. "Devon and I fight all the time."

Sarah arched her brows and knew from the slight tinge of color on Ellie's cheeks that it was a lie. They were everything a perfect couple ought to be.

"I'm sure Chuck will come to his senses and when he does, the two of you will talk through it. He can't hide forever." Sarah smiled weakly. If only she knew the half of it. "Give my brother a little more credit."

Sarah shook her head. "What makes you so sure?"

Ellie looked as if she had just been asked for the sum of two and two. "Sarah!" she exclaimed, nearly agitating the baby in her arms. "Look…I know I haven't always been supportive of your relationship with my brother." Ellie had to take a moment to wipe the guilty expression off her face. "But I know how much he loves you. And whatever you did isn't going to change that."

Sarah wished she had the naivety to believe Ellie's words. She so badly wanted to cling to that hope.

_You don't know what I've done._ Sarah wanted to spill every secret she'd ever kept but she just couldn't, not to Ellie.

"I knew you were the one for my brother the first time I saw the two of you together," the woman with a rueful smile. "Even when you guys broke up the first, second—" A pause. "Third time." Sarah winced and wished the woman had a hazier memory. As it were, Ellie's observations were astute.

"Even when I thought you guys were really over. Even when he told me he'd moved on and was dating someone else, I knew there could only be you."

Ellie squeezed Sarah's hand and the simple touch held such conviction that it made her dare to believe.

"Have some faith in him," she said. "I just know you guys will work things out."

Sarah braved a smile, having nearly forgotten what it felt like to look forward to something. "I hope you're right," she said. "I _really_ hope you're right."

Ellie smiled back, her expression so different from the ones she'd gotten used to seeing in Bryce. It wasn't so much the hope as it was the confidence of _knowing_ that everything would be okay. Ellie's belief in her brother was infallible, unshakable, a pillar of strength that Sarah could take refuge against.

"It will."

Sarah allowed herself to fall under Ellie's gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again.

"It will."


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: As people have pointed out, it's time this story went somewhere. i apologize in advance if i'm not being "technical" enough about the background of the intersect program. i'm not very technically adept; i still haven't finished fixing my computer. speaking of which, i'm taking it in for help today so i'm gonna cross my fingers and hope that there isn't anything more wrong with it. _

* * *

Chapter 16:

Chuck typed feverishly on the keyboard, eliciting a torrent of pitter-patters that sounded akin to a heavy rainstorm. A can of soda was within reach on his right, a stack of manila folders to his left, and earbuds were jammed deep in both ears. What the individuals behind Chuck didn't realize was that he wasn't listening to music; he wasn't listening to anything at all, except perhaps their conversation.

The security guard was talking to Camille again. She had a habit of checking in and often without warning. Sometimes they would exchange a few words but today she chose to linger in the back of the room with the armed guard.

"Do you think it's safe to show him those files?" The guard sounded dubious. Chuck's eyes drifted to the papers on his left, spread out all along the table. They had given him files to test-run the prototype program with; a challenge of sorts.

Chuck didn't need someone to tell him he was looking at something important. Maybe it was the bright red letters that read 'confidential' in bold capitals or perhaps it was the graphic nature of some of the reports, but Chuck had a feeling he was digging through stuff he'd undergone a highly risky surgery to remove. In short, things he shouldn't know.

Behind him, Camille laughed. "Of course it's safe. He doesn't remember anything. He's just a computer nerd."

Chuck flinched at the words. She said it as if it were a bad thing.

"He's harmless," she vouched. The security guard grunted and Chuck trembled in his seat.

"Yes, completely harmless," Chuck agreed softly under his breath.

So far Camille seemed pleased with his progress, even though Chuck didn't feel like he was making any headway. Jill was right; they were just images to the human eye. He'd gone through the entire series, and aside from an awful headache, he was no closer to figuring the entire thing out. Who was to say that an image of a tortoise contained information on weapons blueprints? The joke would be on him if it _was_ just a tortoise but everyone else was so serious in their certainty.

Feeling the full-extent of Camille's eyes on his back, Chuck sat up straighter than ever and stared in earnest at the file in front of him. Fine. The image was encrypted. If they told him it was embedded with the golden ticket to Willy Wonka's factory he'd believe it too. He wasn't about to give either of them a reason to shoot.

_

Chuck was so focused on his work he didn't notice Jill's presence until she yanked one of the buds out of his ear. He flinched, jumping back in his chair.

Jill smiled. "What are you listening to?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just stuff," Chuck said, quickly stowing the earbuds away. "You're looking well."

Jill looked more than well. She had made a complete recovery, making Chuck feel like a wuss for the one time he sprained his ankle and was bedridden for days. There was no way to tell that Jill had taken a bullet to the chest only a week ago.

"Thanks, Chuck," she said, folding stray strands of hair behind her ear. Chuck noticed that about her, like how Bryce liked to run his hand through his hair whenever he got nervous.

When she did it to her other ear, he was suddenly reminiscent of their Stanford days, better days. "How long have you been watching me?"

Jill shrugged. "Awhile," she said. "You're so cute when you're on the computer."

Chuck blushed. After all these years, she still used that word on him. "I'm probably boring you," he said, giving her the perfect opportunity to excuse herself.

Jill wasn't going anywhere though. She took a seat in the adjacent chair, wheeling it up against his.

"I don't mind," she said. She held his hand, giving it a tug. "You seem to be doing well."

Chuck smirked. "Not as good as you." It wasn't that he doubted her, but she made him wonder if agents were secretly aliens from another planet, the kind with super-regenerative abilities and ridiculously perfect bone structure. He could never, for instance, tell her how a fall from a stepladder had once landed him in the hospital with a concussion.

Jill's lips pressed together into a smile but he could tell she didn't like the diversion. "Listen…when things are more stable…" She looked up at him, her eyes full of hope. "Maybe I can put in a good word for you and they'll let us share a room."

Chuck pulled his hand away, clasping them together so they would be out of reach.

"Jill…" he warned, staring straight at the monitor. He heard her sigh audibly beside him, perhaps a little louder for his sake. "I can't do that. Not yet." He rubbed the solitary band on his finger. "Not for a long time."

Jill sighed again. "You're still wearing your wedding ring."

Chuck flinched at the accusation. Did she really expect him to just remove it? There were just some promises you couldn't undo. He had placed it on under oath; he had promised from the heart.

"I know you're hurt."

Chuck held his breath, waiting for the pain in his chest to subside. Did she really?

"But you have to move on."

Chuck turned his head abruptly to face her, glaring at the audacity of her words. "Why?" he demanded. He didn't mean to raise his voice but her flippant manner made it sound as if the last two years had been a write-off.

Jill shut her mouth and sank back in her seat. She remained quiet, her mind retreating to a corner to lick its wounds.

"I'd like to be alone, please," Chuck said. He was so sick of staring at the monitor, but it was his only escape. What else could distract him for sixteen hours a day?

"Chuck…" she pleaded.

"Jill," he said, matching her tone. Chuck understood Jill's reasons but he couldn't just _get over_ this. He couldn't admit he'd been duped and simply dust off his jacket.

"Do you want to go outside?" she asked.

Chuck's eyes darted to the closed door. Whenever Jill or Camille came for a visit the guards left them alone and stepped outside to watch the door. When it was just Chuck they barred the only exit like statues. Chuck still wasn't sure if the guards were there for his safety or for ulterior purposes. They were certainly an incentive to keep working.

"Are we allowed? I thought it wasn't safe."

Jill shrugged, her eyes full of daring. "It isn't," she said. "But it'll be just a little while and I'll be with you the whole time."

"Will Camille be angry?" Chuck asked. Of all the individuals in the facility, the long-legged brunette could instill fear in him like no other.

Jill grinned wickedly. "Not if she doesn't know."

_

Chuck stepped out onto the back lot, soaking in the sunshine. He laughed, the urge to as uncontrollable as a sneeze. He knew no other way to express the joy of this simple freedom; he hadn't seen the light of day in over a week.

"Told you it would be nice," Jill said, slipping on a pair of shades.

Chuck sighed. He was so used to staring at strings of coffee shops and badly parked cars, but here the view of the road was blocked on all sides by other warehouses. He couldn't even be sure this was still L.A. if he hadn't driven here.

The isolation saddened him. There were no calls in or out, and he had only Camille's promise that his loved ones were safe. He had no choice but to believe her when she told him it was safer for everyone if he just disappeared.

That being said, he still found it hard to accept that this was his life now. Sixteen hours in front of a computer charged on sugar and caffeine; eight hours staring into the darkness, haunted by the past.

.

_Chuck finds himself staring up at the ceiling, counting the holes in each square board. Beside him, on the other side of the curtain, someone is howling in pain. It almost makes him feel bad for taking up a bed. _

_As he considers his own predicament, he wonders if Morgan had overreacted. He had only blacked out for a second or two. Maybe not even. Maybe it had been a prolonged blink. Next thing he knows, he's strapped to a stretcher and sequestered off to a corner of the emergency department. Any second now the doctor was going to come back and tell him what he already knew—that it was nothing, not even a bruise. _

_The only real damage here was to his pride. _

_Suddenly the curtain on his other side parts and he's being smothered by what feels like a force of nature. _

"_Oh my God! Chuck!" _

_There's more chaos around him than at the time of the scene, and he can't catch his breath when there's someone trying to steal it away. Not that he can complain. It would be a pleasant way to die. _

_Chuck breaks free from the kiss but there's still the pair of hands running all across his face and hair, frantically searching for a physical sign. _

"_Sarah, Sarah…" He repeats her name over and over but she's not satisfied until she's made sure for herself. "I'm fine. Really. Morgan's overreacted." _

"_Overreacted?" she nearly shrieks. Chuck's never seen her like this before, except maybe the first time she tried to make thanksgiving dinner in Ellie's place. He doesn't even want to think about how she managed to get here so quickly. "I get a call from the hospital, the _hospital,_ telling me my husband's been in an accident. How do you want me to react?" _

_Chuck holds out his hands and tries to steady her. She's wet and shaking and he wonders what she's doing out in the rain without a coat or umbrella. _

"_Morgan was trying to get this box and it was way out of reach. I tried to help him but my foot slipped on the ladder." Chuck doesn't know how much of his pride he's willing to lose but for Sarah, he figures he'll wager it all. "I fell. The box fell on me, and I might have had a concussion. I'm fine though." _

"_Is that what the doctor said?" _

"_No, but don't worry. It doesn't look like I have any memory loss this time around." He pauses and smirks at her. "You're Sarah, my nurse, right?" he teases but she's in no mood for jokes. She punches him in the shoulder—hard, then thinks better of it and hugs him tight, squeezing all the air out of his chest. _

"_Do you have any idea what went through my mind when I got the call?" _

_Chuck doesn't realize what's happening until he feels something warm and wet soaks through his hospital gown. He looks down and Sarah's face is buried in his chest. _

_He tangles his fingers through her damp, slightly mussed hair. "I'm sorry," he says and kisses her on the top of her head. _

_ "Don't ever do it again," she threatens. "Morgan's on his own next time." _

_Chuck suppresses a laugh. He brushes away her tears with his thumb and promises even though neither of them expects the oath to hold longer than thirty seconds. _

_She looks up at him and in a rather unexpected show of tenderness, kisses him on the side of his head. Chuck wrinkles his brows; then it dawns on him what she's trying to do and he smirks at her. _

_"Not there," he says with a slight shake of his head. _

_Sarah gives a beguiling smile. "No?" She kisses him a little closer to his temple, right next to his scar. "How's that?" _

_He shakes his head again. "Not there either." _

_Sarah purses her lips and pecks him on the nose. "There?" _

_Chuck begins to laugh. "You're going to have to try a little harder if you want to help me make the pain go away." _

_She raises her chin slightly at the challenge and holds the side of his face. "How about this?" _

_._

"What are you thinking about?" Jill asked, walking up to him.

Chuck tried to shake his head but in his surprise and subsequent attempt to feign normalcy, his entire body shook instead.

"Nothing," he blurted, hastily wiping the memory away. He felt like he'd been caught red-handed at a crime scene.

Jill was a quick read though. "Were you thinking about Sarah?"

Chuck didn't say anything. If Jill was any good at her job, she would know the answer.

"You need to stop thinking about her. She's dangerous," she said. Hiding behind her shades, Chuck had no way of gauging just how annoyed the woman was, but her tone was short on sympathy.

"Have you forgotten what happened?"

"No," he sighed. "I haven't forgotten."

And therein laid the problem.

He just couldn't forget Sarah.

_

Later that night, Chuck was still in the computer room trying to finish the data entry. Jill's distraction had cost him several hours and knowing how Camille felt about progress, Chuck didn't dare end the day without trialing the allotted files.

_Is this really what I used to do?_ Chuck's fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard. He looked back at the files, trying to imagine his former life. He was not surprised that he had no recollection of doing this in the past, but rather the fact he could recreate something he had no memory of. Camille was satisfied with what he was doing, which had to mean that he was doing it correctly. Albeit, even now Chuck felt like he was groping for something insubstantial in the dark.

Sarah had confirmed in the past that the secrets had been in his _head_ and not a computer. So why did Jill and Camille both think it involved a program? Then again, Sarah had lied about a number of other things.

Chuck pushed the unpleasant memory away, wishing he had selectively removed things in his past and kept others rather than purging everything the way he had. He began typing again but his mind kept wandering back to Sarah. What had she wanted with him? Certainly not this. She tried to pry him away from the computer as much as she could when they were together.

_You said you'd try. _Chuck shook his head, throwing himself into the files in an attempt to ward off the other things at the forefront of his mind. If Jill and Camille knew what he was thinking, well…he didn't want to think about that.

Sarah was dangerous. Sarah was the enemy.

To them, maybe, but to Chuck she had been the best thing about waking up on a Monday morning, the only excusable cause for missing out on Wednesday game nights with Morgan, and the only person he wanted to see after a long day at the office.

_That's why she's so dangerous. She was good at what she did._ The voice, spoken in Jill's voice no less, unsettled him. It was as if the thoughts were not even his own.

Chuck began to type into the database. It wasn't like he didn't have the rest of the evening to stare up at the ceiling and think about things like this; the security guard probably hated him for making him wait after-hours.

As Chuck went through the file in front of him, he frowned. It felt familiar, like he had typed something related to it earlier, a sentence or paragraph somewhere else.

No sooner had he thought it, a series of images flashed through his mind. A child on a swing. A yellow daisy. That damned tortoise from this morning.

Then he saw it. Documents like the ones on his desk, but not these. Documents from two days ago flitted across his mind with such clarity that he could almost read the files verbatim.

He froze and fell back against the seat, feeling as if someone had just taken a bat to his head.

"Hey, what's wrong?" the guard called at the doors.

Chuck gasped and rushed to collect the papers he'd dropped. "Nothing!" he said, hoping the guard would come no closer. "Nothing, just sort of fell asleep at the desk…" He laughed nervously, trying to hide the tremor in his arms and legs.

The guard grunted. "You should treat the documents with a little more respect," he reminded. "Not everyone has the privilege of such a cushy job."

Chuck nearly laughed at the notion. His job? Comfortable?

"Of course," he said, trying to smooth the papers. If Camille discovered that he'd dropped her precious files, what would she do to him? An image of razor sharp nails at his throat came to mind, and suddenly Chuck found it hard to swallow.

"Now get back to work!"

Chuck flinched, flopping down into the seat. He let out a sigh of relief once he was sure the guard was back at his post on the other side of the room.

As he looked back down at the file he'd been processing, the images of the documents he'd entered previously came to mind. This time there were no pre-emptive pictures; he was in control. The files he wanted appeared, slower this time, slow enough for him to read and understand what it all meant.

_Okay. I just have a really good memory._ Chuck took a deep breath. That's what happened when someone stared at a computer all day long.

_But you don't have photographic memory._ Sarah used to tease how he'd always forget something on his way home, even if she wrote him a list on paper and texted a copy to his cell.

There was something unnatural about the process, the way the information just came to him. This was more than just memory; he'd remembered the exact file in relation to the one in his hand. Like he knew exactly what to recall.

_What the heck is happening to me? _

_.  
_

_

* * *

I feel like i say this way too much, but review, please?  
_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

Another day. Another stack of files trialed. Chuck didn't understand why, but he always felt a massive headache come on after running through the images. No matter how many sugar-laden sodas and Red Bulls they fed him, he had his limits. And after two weeks, Chuck felt like he'd reached his ultimate limit.

He dreaded every file he had to trial. Every time he opened a new folder now, it would trigger all sorts of images in his head. The photographs, the documents, the schematics, none of them were random. It was always exactly the data he needed.

Chuck knew this was bad. He felt like a freak with a tail. Like he had an undiagnosed medical condition that was sure to attract international attention, and Chuck hated attention.

After some time he could sense when it would happen; like the way you could feel a sneeze come on before it did but that didn't mean he could prevent it. He could control the rate at which the images came forth but it still took him time to recover; to control the reaction so he wouldn't alert anyone else to the strange anomaly because he was pretty sure the last thing they wanted to hear was that he had all their confidential files memorized and stored in his head.

.

It was nearly five in the afternoon and he'd only gone through half the usual amount of paper. Camille was not going to be pleased when she saw this. Chuck snuck a glance at the guard posted at the door.

He couldn't imagine a job worse than his except perhaps for the man charged with guarding him. Up to this point, Chuck still hadn't figured out whether the man with the gun was sent to protect the files or him. He was not exactly the talkative type.

Chuck snuck another glance behind him. "You can leave early if you want, you know," he offered. The man's shift ended at five exactly, replaced by the evening guard. Chuck's shift was never-ending, and if Camille had her way, he would never leave this room.

"Not like I'm going anywhere." Chuck turned back to face the monitor. "I'm just going to keep typing…and in another five minutes the other guy will be here."

Chuck did just that, making it look more tedious than it really was. When he heard the door buzz open and then close, he knew his plan had worked. When he turned around, he found that he was completely alone.

His fingers trembled with excitement. It was rare for him to go unsupervised and he had waited a long time for this moment. Time was ticking and all of Chuck's five previous Red Bulls seemed to take effect at exactly the same time, supercharging him enough to literally give him wings.

He pulled out the computer software, his fingers deftly typing in the prompt. He'd been fiddling with it in his spare time, hiding it from Camille under an inconspicuous trial folder.

They had confiscated his cell upon arrival. It was a little annoying; they expected him to trust them but they wouldn't even give him the card access to his room. What had started as a mere grudge at first festered into resentment. When trust didn't go both ways, it could only run in the opposite direction.

How could he really know that his family was safe? No one would tell him anything, not even Jill and Chuck was tired of waiting.

That's why he'd created his own program, a way for him to reach the outside world without either side knowing. If everything worked the way he intended, they wouldn't be able to trace the signal back here and Camille would never know that a signal left. If he messed up the code…well, no point in thinking about that.

Chuck nearly completed the connection when he realized he had typed in Sarah's number by mistake. It had come out so habitually. The mouse hovered over the call button and he wondered whether he should just make the connection. He wanted to hear her voice again. All she had to say was 'hello' and he would hang up. No harm no foul.

No. It was too much. Jill was right; he had to move on—starting today.

He changed the number to his sister's and waited for her end to pick up. Three rings, then finally—

"Hello?"

"Ellie?" Chuck nearly squealed, hovering over the monitor with anticipation.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed with equal enthusiasm. "Hello, stranger!"

Chuck felt a heavy boulder lift off his shoulders. Camille had told the truth. Ellie was fine, in fact she sounded better than fine.

"Hi…Ellie," he replied warily. It was never a good sign when Ellie sounded this energetic. "What's going on?"

He heard his sister laugh on the other line and then the question. "When are you coming home?"

"_Uhh_—" He furrowed his brows. What had they told her?

"Don't make any lame excuses, Charles Bartowski, I've had your wife over here in tears."

Chuck leaned close to the speakers, wondering if he heard correctly. "What?"

"I know it's none of my business, Chuck, and whatever is going on between the two of you is your problem, I know, but you better not be mistreating her."

The accusation was so unexpected that Chuck was at a loss for words. "Why would I—"

"I'm warning you, Chuck, the woman loves you. You'd better be treating her well."

Chuck bit into his lip. Ellie was going to be so mad if she found out the truth. "Have…have you seen her lately?"

A pause. "A few times. She misses you, when are you coming home?"

There was that question again. Ellie could be so determined sometimes.

Chuck didn't know what to think. Why was Sarah still hanging around Ellie? Was she waiting for him to reach out to his family, find some way of leverage? That seemed so beneath her though.

"I don't know when I can come home, it's pretty busy here," Chuck said, lying through his teeth.

"Charles Irving Bartowski!" she scolded, in a tone not so different from their mother's. "Cut that business trip short and come home. I'm really worried about her. I think Sarah's sick—"

"What?" Chuck leaned forwards until his ears were right up against the speakers. "What did you say?"

"Shoot the baby's up, I have to go, Chuck—"

"No!" he cried. She couldn't do this to him. "Ellie, don't you—"

The line went dead and Chuck was left to wonder what exactly his sister meant. He considered dialing Sarah's number but the clock now read five o'clock.

He sighed and closed the screen.

It was probably a trick, Sarah's way of luring him out into the open.

Chuck twiddled his fingers. Maybe. Or maybe she was really sick.

That was a big maybe. If he was wrong his life would be over, but if he was right, he didn't know if he could live with himself.

_

Chuck tried not to let the call get to him, but his worries festered just under the skin. It felt like getting chickenpox all over again, he tried to ignore the temptation but all he wanted to do was scratch.

He didn't say anything to Camille when she came to inspect the day's work and he resisted telling Jill, even though she was the only person he trusted in this place.

It was a secret, a terrible secret at that.

.

The five o'clock shift change came and went but Chuck was forced to sit tight in the computer room. The only reprieve he had was when Jill came to visit. As per usual, the armed guard stepped outside, preventing anyone from entering rather than leaving.

Chuck was feeling a massive headache come on but Camille had likely sent Jill along to make sure he didn't fall behind in development. He wondered if the long-legged brunette worked all her employees this hard or if Chuck was merely being punished for spending time with the _enemy_.

Jill wasn't making his job any easier, teasing him and distracting him from the files. She seemed more interested in fulfilling her personal agenda than Camille's, whatever that consisted of.

Finally Chuck threw the files aside. "Jill, will you tell me what really happened in those five years?"

His request didn't take her aback as he thought it would. "Okay," Jill said, her expression unwavering. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Chuck said, without hesitation. "Tell me everything," he implored, matching her brown eyes with the depth of his. Two could play this game.

Jill pursed her lips. "We didn't realize Sarah was a rogue agent. They allowed her to protect you and pose as your girlfriend. _Posed,_" she stressed. "We bumped into each other during a conference. You were there to fix computers and I was there to give a speech."

Chuck's shoulders sank. He could totally see it, him in his nerd-herd getup having to come face-to-face with Jill and her Stanford degree. Even the thought of it made him want to dissolve into a puddle.

"We had dinner," she said with a slow smile. "And we both realized we still had feelings for each other."

Chuck looked deep into her eyes. He so desperately wanted to believe that it was the truth, but after being so unceremoniously dumped back in college, it was a hard sell for him to imagine Jill still harbored feelings for him.

"When Sarah went off the grid, I stepped into the role. We were happy, Chuck." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it for good measure. "Believe me."

It was not so hard to believe. He still remembered the way she made him feel. How it felt to walk on clouds the first time after they'd kissed. He had been crazy about her.

_Had_, he reminded himself. That was the pitfall of first love. But those feelings were far and away now. Ten odd years was a lot of perspective.

"Sarah came back," Chuck said slowly, pulling his hand away.

"She was with Bryce," Jill reminded. "And yes, she came back. She was your handler, technically, and our superiors didn't approve of our relationship. They convinced me it would be best if I left. You would have had to come clean at some point to Ellie, and she already hated me. It would have been difficult."

"So you left."

Jill frowned, her brows knitting together. "Chuck," she groaned. "The nature of our relationship was hard."

"But we didn't even try," Chuck argued.

"It was the safest thing for you," she said and crossed her arms. Discussion over. "When I realized Sarah was rogue, it was too late. They locked me in a holding cell to keep me quiet. It was terrible. I went looking for you as soon as I broke free."

Chuck lowered his eyes, feeling guilty for arguing with her. "I'm sorry."

"I am too. I came too late." Her eyes glared accusingly at the gold band on his hand. It made him self-conscious enough to hide the offending hand in his pant pocket.

"But why would they still want me?" he asked. "I had my memories removed."

Jill shook her head. "No, you didn't have a choice. After you helped them build the Intersect, they no longer had any use for you. They removed your memories so you wouldn't remember it."

"But why would Sarah…" Chuck tried to think back to those early days. How he'd woken up in the hospital without a clue that five years had passed. How Sarah had chased after him, giving up everything to be with him.

"Well, look at you now," Jill said, gesturing to the monitor. "You're still an important person. Even after the surgery you're still able to program this thing."

Chuck shrugged. "Who knows if I'm doing this right. This is just some basic code…"

"Don't be modest," Jill said. "You're brilliant. That's why they wanted you."

Chuck found it difficult to swallow the compliment. It was just another reminder that Sarah didn't want him for him.

The conjecture didn't feel quite right though. Why would she do so much for him if it was all for nothing? Why would she skip work and take him for a weekend in the mountains, just the two of them, if she didn't want to be with him? Why would she go through all the trouble of torturing him with her cooking when they could so easily order out every night? Why did she hug him so tightly, kiss him so passionately, and smile so brilliantly if even a fraction was good enough for show? All of it seemed like a hassle if none of it was real, like decorating a cake when it was only going to be thrown in someone's face.

And Chuck knew for a fact that Sarah had no interest in computers. She rarely asked after the specifics of his work, and only endured the long-winded jargon between Morgan and him for his sake.

"Doesn't it seem odd to you that she would give up her life to marry me…all for a cover?"

Jill looked blankly at him. "No," she said, hardly batting an eyelash. "Agents have sacrificed more for less," she informed. Her matter-of-fact way of speaking stung. _Sacrifice_, that's what the last two years had been for Sarah.

"Don't worry, Chuck, things will be better now that we are together again."

Chuck closed his eyes. He thought learning about the past would take his mind off the headache but it only seemed to magnify it.

"I really don't think I can handle a relationship right now," he said.

"Just try," Jill said. It seemed to be the favorite word of the facility. "Just try, and see how it feels." She smiled seductively at him. "You never know, maybe you'll like it."

Chuck stared at her. He imagined their lips meeting, the way it had so many years before, but now it only felt wrong. He pulled back from her, maintaining the physical detachment.

"I'm not like you agents," he said. "I can't just pretend to feel one way or another."

Jill frowned. "You have to pretend?" she asked, sounding hurt.

Chuck winced. It was a terribly inconsiderate thing to say. "No," he said, backtracking. "I care for you, we're friends. But I'm still married, Jill, I have a whole other life out there—"

"That wasn't real," she stressed.

"Exactly!" Chuck chorused. "I can't just separate my feelings like that. I'm not like you or Sarah or Carmen."

Jill frowned again. "Carmen," she repeated. The statement might as well have been a question.

"Yeah," Chuck said slowly. "Tall, blond with blue-eyes…"

"Right." Jill smiled. "You have a weakness for those types, don't you?"

Chuck found it hard to follow her tease. Jill didn't know who Carmen was. She must have gone over his case file after her escape; she had to know that it wasn't Sarah protecting him the entire five years.

So why didn't she?

Chuck stared up at Jill, a chill going through his entire body. "Jill, are you telling me everything?"

She looked at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing just the slightest. "What do you mean?" she asked, sliding out of her chair.

Chuck gulped. "Are you holding out on me?"

Jill stood to her full height, towering over him the only way she could, with Chuck seated.

"I took a bullet for you," she reminded, pointing to the midline of her chest. "I saved your life."

Of course. And she was probably never going to let him forget it.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, holding his hands out in surrender. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day." Now he knew he was just making excuses. "I've been cooped up here for days, Jill. Do you think we could take a walk?"

Jill sighed. Her expression softened and she looked cautiously at the door.

"I'll see what I can do," she said, sitting back down in the chair. Everything was back to normal when she smiled, but he knew just as well as she did that Jill hadn't answered the ultimate question.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Oh boy. I'm pretty sure at some point in the chapter you're going to wonder what the heck i was thinking. Or maybe not. I guess you'll have to read on. =P  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter 18:

"So can we go for a walk?"

Jill arched her brows. She knew the rules as well as he did.

Chuck sighed. "How much longer do I have to stay here?" When she didn't answer, Chuck's heart sank with dread. "Am I going to have to stay here forever?"

"You want to go?" she asked, sounding hurt. "Where are you going to go?"

Chuck dropped his gaze. He didn't have to say it.

Jill sighed. "Why can't you just trust me?" she asked. "Why does it have to be so hard?"

"You don't trust me," he said. His eyes darted to the door. "Do you?"

She sat up straight in her seat. "Chuck…" she warned.

"I feel like a prisoner." He held his breath and winced. There, he'd said it. "I need a break."

She said nothing but he could tell his words had given her a lot to think about.

"Can we go for a walk…please?"

When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were filled with renewed determination "I think we can do one better." She pressed her index finger to his lips, forcing him to hold back his curiosity. "Come with me."

.

Jill did all the talking and Chuck asked no questions. Even hidden around the corner, he could hear her voice, so heavy with seduction, claim another victim. Chuck winced. She was so terribly good at her job. Within five minutes Jill had cleared the hallway and procured a set of car keys.

She waved them triumphantly in her hand. "Let's go."

_

Chuck sat obediently in the car and went along for the ride. He knew what they were doing was wrong, so he wasn't entirely sure whether to be touched she would bend the rules for him or disturbed that she was not more concerned for his safety.

"Don't worry," she soothed. "It'll be crowded with people. You'll be fine."

Chuck didn't want to argue. He knew Camille had forbidden any kind of leave from the premises, going so far as to include opening the door for a breath of fresh air. If anything happened, he was better off in the dark.

Chuck never thought Jill as a stereotypical girl but strangely enough, her choice for their first excursion back into the real world involved a shopping center. It was the last place he would have imagined going to, but she seemed completely relaxed.

"Are you sure about this?" Chuck craned his neck all the way around as he surveyed his new surroundings. After so many days of isolation, he wasn't used to such a crowd.

She laughed. "You'll never fit in if you walk like that. Here, hold my hand."

Chuck fumbled with his fingers, drawing them slowly out of his pant pockets. Growing impatient, Jill latched onto his arm, snuggling against him. If she sensed his reluctance, she didn't let on.

Chuck trailed his feet as they walked, looking nervously at the passersby. They hardly gave them a glance.

And indeed, why should they?

As they passed a reflective pillar, his eyes met with the reflection of a man and woman linked arm in arm. A couple just like any other.

Seeing Jill's happy face beam back, he immediately averted his eyes, feeling dizzy with guilt.

"I've really missed this, Chuck," she said, leaning against him. Chuck wasn't sure if he could take the weight of it, however slight, and he mumbled something along the same lines so she would not say it again.

"This feels right, doesn't it?" she coaxed.

Chuck nodded grimly, even though it couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Oh look, Chuck!" Jill suddenly cried and pulled him towards the store that had caught her eye. Chuck looked at the window display with disinterest, the collection of cribs and crinoline excessive for his taste. He could almost hear Ellie now, nagging in his ear about how he needed to have kids, preferably sooner than later.

"I didn't think you were the type, Jill," Chuck said, afraid to even venture past the threshold into the store of pastel pinks and blues.

Jill's cheeks flushed, and she took a step back as if suddenly aware of how much she had revealed.

"I'm a woman," she said, looking at him sensibly. "I'm entitled to. It's in my biological makeup."

Chuck arched his brows. He had slept through one biology classes too many to know better.

Jill took a step forwards into the store, then looked back expectantly at him. Chuck really didn't want to, but he felt like she didn't give him much of a choice. Taking her outstretched hand, he allowed himself to be dragged into the land of stuffies and soothers.

Jill stopped at the first crib in their path, dropping his hand to reach for the polished wood bar. Her eyes gazed steadily down into the emptiness, and they remained there for so long that Chuck thought he might have missed something.

But when he leaned over the edge all he saw were a pile of blankets. Warily he stole a glance at the woman beside him. Jill continued to stare, as if transfixed.

Completely unguarded for once, Chuck was surprised to see such unhappiness written in her fine lines. It was an expression full of wanting and yearning, but more than that, it was a look of hunger and desperation for something she didn't have.

Chuck's voice caught in his throat and even though he wanted to bring Jill back to reality, he felt his own thoughts begin to shift.

It was not so long ago. They had been at a mall just like today, and just like Jill, Sarah had been drawn to a nursery window display. There was no other way to explain it. It had to be the biological makeup.

Sarah had pressed her long slender fingers to the glass, and leaned in so close her breaths made tiny fog circles on the reflective surface. She had stared at the display for what felt like hours, her eyes not once leaving the crib and rocking chair sitting in the corner.

_Do you want to go in? _

The longing in her eyes was so intense it was nearly palpable. But once she realized Chuck was watching, she looked away, shrugging off the reverie as if it were nothing.

_No. Why would I? _

Looking back on the moment now, Chuck refused to believe it had been an act. Those had been real emotions or so help him, she deserved an Oscar. He wanted—no, needed, to believe that that morning at the church on Catalina Island when she said she did, she meant it. And that day when she walked away from the nursery display and told him _someday_, she hadn't said it for anyone's sake but her own.

Chuck shook his head, emptying his thoughts. Jill was still staring off into space.

"Jill?" he asked. She looked at him and Chuck couldn't bear to meet her gaze. What she wanted, he couldn't give. He knew. He'd known from the very beginning. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

.

The next store they visited was no better. Chuck didn't know what Jill was up to today, but she could really use a few lessons in subtlety.

"Why are we in a lingerie store?" Chuck asked, trying to avert his eyes from the lace-clad offerings that bombarded him from all angles.

Jill laughed. "You didn't seem very interested in babies, so I figured I'd take you someplace you'd enjoy more," she said with a sultry smile.

Chuck gulped. "Uh, well then," he gaped. "Maybe we should go to a hardware store. That'd be much more handy and useful…"

Jill raised her brows and he knew she didn't believe him for a second. "Chuck, you don't even know how to nail two boards together."

Chuck flushed with embarrassment. "I built a spice rack once in home ec," he informed. It couldn't hold any spices but that was besides the point.

Jill only laughed. She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it at him. "I'm going to try some of these on," she said.

Chuck wondered if there was a furnace in the store. He tugged on his shirt collar and nodded.

"Okay, sure," he said.

Jill shook her head. "Silly, are you just going to stand there?" Her voice was louder than usual and it had the desired effect. They had the attention of everyone in the store. "Come on, I need someone to tell me how I look."

Chuck was less than enthusiastic about the task. What was she trying to do here?

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" a complete stranger asked. Jill had already disappeared into the back of the store and he was still standing where she left him, clutching her coat like a butler.

"I'm being a gentleman," he said, flushing with embarrassment.

The stranger couldn't have looked more horrified if Chuck had informed him he was a psychopath on the run. "Dude, are you even a man?"

Chuck grit his teeth together. Would it make things any better to explain that he was married but not to the woman changing in the back room?

The stranger was not the only male staring enviously at him. There were at least half a dozen and with their stares combined, Chuck felt like he had no choice but to retreat to the safety of the dressing room.

Chuck's face still burned with embarrassment as he stepped into uncharted territory. Jill was really starting to grate on his nerves and he swore if she dragged him into a bridal boutique next, he would demand they return to the warehouse. Even if a fresh pile of folders awaited him, he would rather take to it than have another hint as big as a billboard shoved in his face.

"Jill?" he called hesitantly.

"In here." Chuck walked up and knocked once on the door. To his horror, the door was unlocked and it swung wide open.

Jill jumped back, smiling in her surprise. "Chuck!" she exclaimed, barely taking the effort to cover up in her state of near undress.

Chuck had every intention of turning around, but something wasn't right.

"Is something the matter, Chuck?" she purred, pulling him closer.

Chuck knew he was staring but he was too surprised to even blush.

"You see something you like?" she teased, her voice dangerously low. Chuck licked his lips nervously. He would probably never have another opportunity like this.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

Jill wrinkled her brows but before she could respond, his mouth was already on hers. The kiss was different from every kiss before; urgent, demanding, and the tension was as sharp as knife. He didn't feel like himself.

The moment was anything from tender as his hands slipped up the front of her near-transparent negligee, roaming across the soft terrain of her flesh. Her skin felt like putty in his hands, and he moved deftly, unclasping her bra within seconds.

Jill didn't seem to care and she kissed him back, matching his aggression with a version of her very own. She stole his breath away and demanded more, consumed by a hunger with no way of being sated. Chuck realized he was way over his head.

"Excuse me! Where do you think you are—a public restroom?"

Chuck was grateful for the reminder. He opened his eyes, looking warily at the speaker. The matronly woman had her hands on her hips, a look of severe disapproval on her face.

Chuck didn't realize what there was to see until he looked down at their compromised position. He removed his hands and placed them behind his back, all the while burning with the indecency of it all.

"We're sorry," Chuck said, feeling like his knees were about to give out.

"The nerve…"

Jill readjusted her bra, her face flushing with excitement. There was not a smidgen of embarrassment in her expression, only a ravenous hunger.

"What was that all about?" she demanded, quickly changing back into her own clothes. They left the store quickly to avoid any more disapproving looks, but Jill looked far from upset.

"I just needed to find some things out," Chuck said weakly.

Jill giggled, hooking arms with him. "And did you?"

Chuck gulped. "Yeah. Yeah I did."

They walked no more than ten steps before he stopped. "Jill, I need to use the washroom."

Jill arched her brows. "Do you need me to come with you?" she purred.

Chuck gulped. "No!" he exclaimed. He smiled nervously and clarified. "No, I need to do this alone."

She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "Your loss," she teased. "I'll be at the food-court then. Don't take too long."

Chuck nodded obediently and walked on wobbly legs to the men's room. He kept his head down low and moved into the last stall, locking himself inside.

Once sure he was alone, he felt the last strands of his nerves fray and he leaned against the cool tiles, shuddering at what he'd done.

This wasn't a solution. He'd bought himself a few minutes at most.

Chuck kicked the stone wall in frustration.

_What the hell is going on? _

Losing those memories had been the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He thought he'd learned by now that there was no one he could trust, but Jill was proof the depths of his naïveté were endless. She had lied, and Chuck was beginning to wonder just how deep her lies went.

His thoughts drifted to Sarah and he thought he could finally appreciate the idiom; it was better to sleep with the devil you knew than the devil you didn't.

_Sarah._ Chuck was suddenly wracked with guilt. From the moment he saw Jill in that slip, he knew something was wrong. He stared at his trembling hands and they might as well have been covered in blood.

In his more than immoral method of discovering the truth, he found that every inch of her skin was flawless, unblemished by even a scratch much less a surgical incision or entrance wound. Nothing to indicate that she had survived a near death experience two weeks ago. She hadn't even winced in pain when his fingers pressed against her ribs.

Lies. They had all been lies.

Jill deserved the Oscar for her performance. She was as good as any.

Chuck's headache began to pulse again, and as he ran his fingers mindlessly through his hair, he wondered if there was anyone left he could trust.

_Of course. _

He stepped out of his confinement and moved to the sink. This was bad. More than bad.

What was going to happen when Jill found out he knew the truth?

What was going to happen to his family?

And Sarah.

_Oh God._

He splashed some cold water on his face and tried to ignore the ghastly sight of his own reflection.

This was madness.

_

It was some time before Chuck had the courage to step out of the washroom and back into the living nightmare. The mall directory was a large panel on the wall across from him. An arrow to the right pointed to the food court.

Chuck took a deep breath and walked the other way, not once looking back.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: I decided to post a day early because chuck is BACK tomorrow!!! and i won't be writing. This is, alas, not THE chapter you're looking for but i hope it'll tide you over until then. Thanks for all the encouragement on the last chapter, i was really afraid i'd get burned for allowing chuck to kiss jill.  
_

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Chapter 19:

Sarah put all her strength into the kitchen tiles, scrubbing five times across, five more vertically, and repeating the motion twice more for good measure. The tempo of coarse bristles against polished stones lulled her into a false sense of calm.

She wouldn't be satisfied until the floor was clean enough to eat off of, and even then, she wondered if she should go over them just to be sure.

In the back of her mind she knew what she was doing was insane. The house was immaculate and this was the fifth time she'd cleaned the floors in the last two days, but like the way some women turned to cartons of ice-cream, she found the scent of bleach therapeutic. If she couldn't wipe away her troubles, she could at least try to wipe away the stains of her physical surroundings.

It all started last Friday when she made the mistake of visiting Ellie. Since then her sister-in-law had called numerous times, her voice always rife with concern. No matter what Sarah said, nothing could convince the woman that everything was okay.

Then after a surprise visit one night, Sarah realized she had to pull herself together, for Ellie's sake at least. She was beginning to frighten the woman and she couldn't bear to shut her away. She was all Sarah had now, her last connection to Chuck.

And so began the impulsive cleaning that spread from clearing a few bills off the kitchen counter to scrubbing down every inch of the house. She took a leave of absence at work, knowing she was frightening her coworkers with her indifference and short temper, but it only left her with even more idle time.

Never had a concept been so relative. Two years could pass without her notice while two weeks dragged by the milliseconds, arduously marking its passage through Sarah's mind.

Exhausted, she threw down the brush and removed her gloves. Ellie wanted her over for dinner tonight, but she couldn't—wouldn't, not while there was still the slim chance Chuck might come back. What would he think if he returned to an empty house? Her only consolation was that the apartment would be cleaner than the day they moved in.

As if hearing her thoughts, the doorbell suddenly rang. Sarah jumped to her feet, wondering if fate would really play a trick as cruel as this, tempting her with something they had no intention of giving up.

"Who is it?" she called as she walked down the hallway. When there was no response, her heart quickened. The all-too-familiar sensation of tears began to mist her eyes as she whispered his name. She rarely said it aloud these days; afraid even the slightest remembrance would trigger something in herself she had no way of controlling.

She held her breath as she gripped the door handle and swung it open. Sarah had gotten better at lowering her expectations, it hurt a little less each time she was faced with disappointment.

_You knew it couldn't be,_ she consoled as she stared at the man standing in front of her.

Bryce held up a large brown bag which Sarah promptly ignored. 'What do you want?" she asked.

"You look awful," he announced, pushing his way into the apartment. Sarah rolled her eyes as he walked down the hallway without removing his shoes, ruining a good two hours of labor. "When was the last time you ate?"

Sarah slammed the door and followed him into the dining room where Bryce was already spreading out the contents of his offering onto the table.

"The house reeks of bleach, what have you been doing?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. His eyes darted to the immaculate kitchen tiles and the bucket of soapy water she had abandoned there. "When was the last time you slept?"

Sarah crossed her arms. The best answer was nothing. "You're getting sauce all over the table," she complained.

"When was the last time you ate?" He eyed the kitchen counter but Sarah had already thrown away the last package of food he'd sent over. When she didn't respond, he walked across the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Sarah winced, knowing Bryce would be unhappy with his find. "For crying out loud, Sarah," he cursed.

Coming up empty-handed, he stalked back into the dining room and took a seat.

"Are you going to just stand there?" he demanded.

"What did you find?"

Bryce removed the lid of the first styrofoam carton, licking his lips in an exaggerated fashion.

"What did you find?" she repeated, louder this time. When the man continued to ignore her, she wondered if Bryce was feeling lucky today. He couldn't dodge every punch she threw at him; one of them was bound to hit its intended target.

"Are you going to just stand there?" he asked again.

Sarah narrowed her eyes but she complied, understanding the nature of this game. It was a lose-lose though; Bryce was wasting time better spent trying to find Chuck and Sarah wasn't interested in food.

She walked to the other side of the table and pulled out the chair across from him, only to catch herself. She pushed it back in and took the chair beside it, purposefully sitting diagonal to Bryce.

Meeting the man's questioning eyes, she explained. "You're sitting in Chuck's seat."

Bryce nodded at the vacant seat across from him. "So isn't that your usual spot then?"

Sarah lowered her eyes, picking at the foam containers with her nails. "You're not Chuck," she informed flatly. If circumstances had been different, she might have been more careful with her responses, but these days she simply didn't give a damn.

The answer wasn't what Bryce had been expecting but the most he revealed was a single dissatisfied grunt.

"This isn't lunch meat you know," he informed, pointing down at his plate. "It's triple A sirloin, best place in town."

He pushed her portion forwards until it was right in front of her. "Come on…it's good."

Sarah pushed it back. "Bryce," she warned.

"You know they've opened up a new restaurant a few blocks down? It looks nice, very upscale. I think you'd like it…"

"Bryce."

"I think they used some sort of citrus marinade as a glaze," he pressed, chewing thoughtfully. "Try it, Sarah, tell me what you think."

"I don't care," she snapped. "You know there's only one thing I care about."

Bryce threw down his plastic utensils. "You know I can't tell you anything about that."

Sarah's eyes darkened. He had a lot of nerve. "Can't, or _won't?_"

She met his gaze but Bryce stood his ground, his eyes glowering like cold steel. She knew he would be as inclined to speak as an animal with its mouth wired shut.

"Fine," she said, standing to her feet. "Don't say anything at all."

"Sarah—" Bryce reached across the table and grabbed her hand just as she was about to leave. "You have to eat something."

"Why?" she asked with a shake of her head. "What's the point?"

"Sarah," he called, his voice wavering. He gripped her harder, keeping her from running away. "Come on, Sarah. What are you doing to yourself?"

Sarah avoided his gaze. "Please don't look at me like that," she said. "It's over, Bryce."

The man licked his lips like he was prepared to give an impassioned speech but the distinct ring of a cell stole his attention. He let go of her and reached for his pocket, turning his back to answer it.

"Yeah, what?"

Bryce's posture grew rigid and Sarah found herself leaning over the table trying to catch even a single word. Her ears pricked with anticipation and she scrutinized his every blink and breath; the subtlety of his posture as he ran his hand through his long dark hair.

The call was over within a matter of seconds and Bryce turned back to her face her, a changed man. "I have to go," he said.

"Is it about Chuck?" she asked. "Bryce?"

Bryce wouldn't look at her. "Answer me!" she demanded, storming up to him.

"Stay put," he dismissed, slipping on his jacket. "Eat your dinner."

Sarah slapped him, not even realizing she had until the tell-tale red welt had formed on his face. "Don't talk to me that way," she warned, breathless with nerves. "Is this about Chuck?"

Bryce wouldn't say. "I have to go," he repeated and moved towards the door.

Sarah was taken aback, temporarily frozen by surprise. No. He couldn't leave her hanging like this.

"Take me with you," she insisted, latching onto him. She pushed him—hard, against the wall, pinning him with all the strength she had. "Take me with you!"

Bryce sighed, his eyes softening. It was a rare show of indecision. "You're in no condition," he said. "You're way too emotional for this."

"I am not!" she screamed, fury boiling inside of her. Didn't he know who she was? "I'm one of the best, you know that! I can help you!"

"I have people helping me already," he informed, and very easily thwarted her next blow. "You admitted yourself that returning would be a mistake."

"This isn't returning, I just want to be there when you find him," she said. Couldn't he see that?

Tired of this game, Bryce spun her around, throwing her into the adjacent wall. The intensity of his grip surprised her and she felt completely and utterly helpless, like a turtle flipped on its shell.

"I'll tell you when I get back," he hissed, breathing down her neck. "Until then, don't do anything stupid."

He let her go, and Sarah fell forwards onto the ground. By the time she was back on her feet, Bryce was already gone.

_You're hopeless. _

For once, Sarah agreed. She swallowed her wounded pride and succumbed to her first instinct, donning a pair of rubber gloves and clearing the table. She needed the distraction and needed it badly.

In a few hours Bryce would call as he always did. She could almost hear him on the other line, reluctantly confessing that the lead had been a dead end. That their intel had been wrong. That Chuck was still out there somewhere; anywhere but here with her.

Sarah wiped the table feverishly, scrubbing to calm herself. She had just thrown the boxes into the garbage and was about to begin the work of cleaning the floors again when there was a knock at the door. She rolled her eyes. What now?

She removed her gloves and stormed down the hallway. Did Bryce realize his mistake? Served him right, who was he to tell her what to do?

She swung open the door, ready to give him an earful, only to have words escape her.

Brown hair, 6' 2", and the warmest eyes she'd ever known.

Sarah could no longer help herself. Tears immediately sprang to mind, the only defense she had left. She reached out hesitantly to him, wondering if she had finally fallen off the deep end. They said if you wanted something bad enough, you could make it happen.

_Let this be real. Let this be real._

Her fingers touched solid warmth and when she rested her hand against his chest, she could feel his heart beating against her palm.

She whimpered his name.

_Please,_ she begged. When he reached out and held her hand, she didn't care if she was dreaming, she didn't ever want to wake.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Yes, this is THE chapter you've been waiting for, after twenty chapters i'm surprised you're still following this. thank you. it really means a lot._

_ I was going to edit and post tomorrow but i made a deal with **altonish **that when he posted doldrums i would post mine. so you have him to thank. He also deserves all the credit for creating Largemart Chicken Caesar salads. I am merely a small-time distributor. _

_

* * *

_Chapter 20:

At first he thought he had the wrong apartment. Maybe he had turned a corner too early or knocked on the adjacent door. It wouldn't be the first time.

But then he saw the tears that streamed down her porcelain white face and he realized that it _was _her, or whatever was left of her in this fragile shell of a woman. She reached out to him and Chuck couldn't even move, couldn't even fathom what had happened.

When she whispered his name, she might as well have screamed it. It struck every nerve in his body and his first instinct was to wrap her in his arms where he could keep her safe forever. He restrained himself and did so gently, afraid he would break her in her current state. Sarah wept into his shirt, burying her face against his chest.

All of Jill's prior warnings ceased to exist. Sarah may have lied to him, but there was no way she could have done something like this to herself to fool him. To go from someone so beautiful and radiant into this frail waif of a person was beyond comprehension.

_Oh God. _It was him. He did this. He did this to her.

Chuck closed all the distance between them but even then, he couldn't help feeling as if there was only half of her to hold. Guilt dropped on him like anvils from the sky, and he held on even tighter, not even realizing he could scarcely breathe.

He tangled his fingers through her limp yellow hair, grazing his lips across her temple.

"Sarah," he whispered, dropping his chin so their foreheads touched. "Is this real?"

Chuck could see that she was wondering the same thing. She didn't respond and only latched onto him tighter, fear blatant in the whites of her eyes.

"Sarah." He traced his hands across her face, horrified by the bony prominences that hadn't been there before. "Sarah, do you love me?"

Sarah looked confused. She tilted her head upwards and stared at him, halting the torrent of tears that streamed down her lily white cheeks. She spoke with her eyes alone, reflecting a look of hurt and disappointment, as if to ask how he could ever think otherwise.

And then she kissed him, not like the countless encounters that preceded this, but like two survivors of a horrific crash, clinging onto each other as if they were the last remaining of their kind. As if at any second, the other would perish.

And in that instant, Chuck realized he didn't care if this was all still a lie. She could kill him, burn down the government, wreck havoc on the millions of lives that depended on him, and he would willingly stand witness to it all.

If this was a dream, then he never wanted to wake.

If none of this was real, then he wanted her to lie to him.

All he wanted was her.

_

It was a strange feeling for him to be back. As he stepped into the kitchen for the first time in weeks, he felt as if he were seeing the world through a new set of eyes. Everything looked brighter, clearer, better.

Beside him, Sarah's hands clutched his tightly. She hadn't let go since his return, and even now Chuck could sense her stealing glances at him, constantly trying to reassure herself of his presence.

"Do you..." Chuck never thought he'd see a day when she would look so hesitant. "Do you want something to drink?" She smiled at him but it was mixed with tears. "I have water. And tea. Do you want some tea?"

Chuck squeezed her hand. "This is my house too, you know."

She nodded sadly. "I know," she said, "I just..." She covered her mouth with her free hand, trying to hide a broken sob. "I'm just really glad you're back."

Chuck lowered his eyes, afraid to come face-to-face with all the repercussions of his actions.

What could he say to make things better?

What could he do to erase all the pain?

When he finally gazed into her watershed blue eyes, he thought she looked just as hapless as he did. Neither of them knew what to do.

"Some water would be nice." It was a stupid thing to say, but somehow, _sorry _seemed too pathetic for words.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. Coming right up." Just as she's about to go, she stopped and looked down at her hands. The separation was inevitable, but when she slid her fingers from his, he felt as if she had torn a piece of himself with it.

Sarah winced as she turned towards the cupboards. "Have a seat," she said quietly. "I'll just be a minute."

She returned with a full glass and set it down in front of him but Chuck wasn't interested in quenching his thirst. He reached for her hand and held it, desperate for the peace of mind.

"I'm sorry," he said. Everyone said _sorry_, but he meant it, really meant it. And if only she could see into the depths of his soul, she would know just how terrible he felt.

Sarah doesn't say anything as she slides into the chair across from him. There's no hint of the woman he saw that day at the parkade; all he sees is his wife. The woman he loved and promised to love forever.

"How did you get back?" she asked. Chuck's haunted by her voice, it's too quiet, too soft to belong to Sarah.

"I took a cab." She nodded, as if this was all so normal. "I didn't have any money so I had to give him my jacket for the fare." When Chuck looked up at Sarah, the corner of her lips twitched in some semblance of a smile.

She reached over and rested her other hand atop his. "You're still wearing your ring," she pointed out.

Chuck just stared. "Why wouldn't I?"

Sarah said nothing but he read into her expression. She couldn't be faulted for asking; his actions had certainly sent the message.

"Is everything okay, Sarah?" Chuck realized too late what a stupid question that was.

_Does she look okay?_

The muscles in her jaw tensed but she forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I will be."

It wasn't exactly the answer he'd been looking for.

He looked expectantly at her, and wondered why she hadn't bombarded him with questions yet. Didn't she want to know what had happened? Didn't she want to know about Jill?

There was so much he wanted to ask, but where to start? He still didn't know any more than before, still didn't know what was real and what wasn't.

"Sarah, I need you to tell me the truth."

Chuck wondered if she would do that for him or if he was no closer to understanding than when all this started.

He could spend all day picking apart her lies, but that didn't mean he cared for her any less. His feelings for Sarah. Her feelings for him. That was real. Maybe the only thing in his life that was.

"Can I ask you something?"

Sarah didn't respond but she didn't shy away either.

"You and Bryce?" he whispered. The first real lie she told him.

Sarah closed her eyes and for a second he thought she would tell him another lie. But then she stared straight at him and nodded once, guilt written all over her face. For some reason, the admission didn't hurt him as much as he thought it would.

"Me and Jill?"

Sarah's resolve seemed to waver but saying nothing, she nodded again.

Chuck nodded back like he understood.

"I didn't want to tell you," she whispered. "Not because you couldn't handle it but because they weren't things either of us were proud of." She blinked back a string of tears. "Things _I_ wasn't proud of," she corrected.

Chuck leaned forwards and kissed her on the cheek, trying to take away some of the bitterness.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said. It seemed 'sorry' had become the word of the day. "Please don't leave me," she begged. "I'll tell you anything you want. All of it, I'll tell you everything."

Chuck squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her, but she was shaking. "It's okay, don't say anything," he said. _Right now this is enough_.

But Sarah was not satisfied. "No, you should know," she said, her voice escalating with urgency. "We knew Jill as your ex, but we never imagined she was a rogue agent. We didn't realize the threat she posed until it was too late, not until she had gotten too close. When she surrendered to the agency she promised she'd reformed. We trusted her but it was only another lie."

She swallowed nervously, the blue of her eyes dark with turmoil. "I was going to kill her," she said. "But you wouldn't let me."

Chuck closed his eyes. That day, the hesitation before she fired, that had been for his sake. Chuck nodded and rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her in any way he could. Now was not the time for judgment or accusations; what had happened had happened.

"Our superiors agreed she would be worth more to us alive than dead. They locked her away and we thought we saw the last of her."

"Okay," he whispered. Chuck could see it. Jill had a silver tongue; she had manipulated him over and over again for her own gain. He was embarrassed to have repeated the mistake so many times.

"Sarah, please don't cry," he begged, his thumbs trying to keep pace with the wet stains that appeared on her reddened cheeks. "It's okay, I'm here."

He could see she didn't completely believe him and he didn't blame her. He never should have run away.

"Bryce and I happened a long time ago," she said. "A very long time ago, before I even met you."

"Okay," he soothed. "That's okay."

"I didn't tell you that night, I didn't know how," she whispered. "You knew him as your best friend, you would have—"

"Well, not _best_ friend," Chuck reminded, hoping to coax a smile from her. She looked up at him so vacantly it was as if she had forgotten how. "Sarah, it's okay. I believe you. And I'm sorry I didn't before." He wiped her cheeks for what he prayed would be the last time. "Please don't cry. It kills me to see you like this."

Sarah stared up at him, the darkness in her eyes clearing like a storm cloud had been lifted from them.

"This isn't a dream, is it?"

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Would a dream do this?" He leaned over the table and nipped her on her nose. "Or this?" he asked as he grazed his lips across her cheeks.

Sarah was humourless though. "Say it," she said. "You have to say it."

The desperation in her eyes frightened him.

Chuck shook his head. "No, not a dream," he said.

Sarah sighed with relief as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Good," she whispered, as if she could scarcely believe it. "Thank God."

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

She looked sharply at him, her sorrows momentarily displaced. "Promise me something."

"Of course." _Anything_.

"Don't ever apologize again. You have nothing to be sorry for." Even if he wanted to, Chuck couldn't argue with the resoluteness in her eyes. "I'm sorry. This was my fault entirely. I was selfish; I kept you in the dark."

Chuck wanted to protest but her gaze was so fierce, so full of conviction, that all he wanted to do was move past this and seek solace in that it was behind them.

"I understand why you did it," he whispered. If the pain of the past was even a fraction of what he'd suffered these last few weeks, he would have lied too. He would have looked her straight in the eye, sworn on his grave, crossed his heart and hoped to die as he said them.

"I'll make this up to you," she whispered, rising from her chair.

Chuck gazed complacently at her. "Okay."

She shook her head, the corners of her lips finally creeping into some semblance of a smile. "No, Chuck, I don't think you understand."

And clearly he didn't because he was taken by surprise when she grabbed his collar and yanked him over to her half of the table.

"I was thinking more along the lines of…right now."

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21:

Chuck had nearly forgotten the way Sarah could make him feel; really—all hairs standing on end, heart through the chest, fall to your knees—feel. The sensation of her fingers running through his hair was intoxicating; the sweetness of her lips was a drug. And though their reunion was tinged with the salt of tears, it still felt as close as he'd ever know to heaven on earth.

She kissed him slowly at first, savouring the moment like the last piece of chocolate or bite of ___Crème Brûlée_, relishing the taste of his mouth on hers. Her fingers wrapped around the curls of his hair and she laughed softly in his ear as she nuzzled her cheeks against the roughness of his chin. Chuck relinquished all control, allowing her to dictate the pace. His needs were simple. He just wanted her, every inch of her.

But as they tripped and fumbled their way down the hall and into the bedroom, he could feel the dynamics change. She was no longer teasing when she kissed him; the exchange grew deeper in its complicity, its demands. She clung to him, her hands desperately seeking out the touch of his flesh, but it was the look in her eyes. The fear that this could at any moment end, that gave rise to Sarah's urgency.

"Sarah," he whispered, gasping for breath. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," she said, but her kisses were no less frantic. "I know. I just—"

There was a knock at the door.

Sarah laughed softly as she nibbled at his ear. "I just missed you, Chuck."

"Sarah..." He tried to get in the rest of his sentence but she was doing everything in her power to distract him. "Sarah..."

There it was again. He was sure of it.

"Sarah..." He broke away from the kiss. "Sarah, I think—"

"You need to stop thinking."

As tempted as he was, Chuck couldn't let it go. "No...no..." He captured her face and pulled her close so they saw eye to eye. "Sarah...I think there's someone at the door."

She looked at him like she didn't understand. Then as if to prove his point, they both heard an unmistakable rap at the door.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing at once the change that came over her.

"It's okay, Chuck," she said, but there was an urgency in the way she slipped her clothes back on. "Please don't be frightened."

"What? Why would I—" As if to answer, he heard the distinct sound of a gun being loaded. "Where did you—" Chuck stopped himself. "Right, you have one…I forgot."

She cast a worried glance his way and then looked guiltily down at the weapon in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said briskly. "I'll see who's at the door."

Her words rang all sorts of alarm bells in Chuck's mind. He fell out of bed trying to catch up to her. "Wait! I'll come with you—"

"No!" she hissed, pushing him firmly back. "It's too dangerous!"

"Sarah! I'm not going to let you go out there alone."

"Chuck—"

"Sarah, I don't remember how this used to go, but I'm sure you do. And I'm sure I did not sit back and let you face danger alone."

When she pursed her lips, Chuck knew he had hit a bull's-eye. It was a war of wills and when the pounding at the door started up again, she finally relented. "Fine but stay behind me," she warned.

Seeing her with gun in hand, Chuck wouldn't dream of disobeying the order.

.

Chuck was forced into a crouching position behind the door so he had no idea who it was on the other side until he saw the flicker of impatience in Sarah's eyes.

When Chuck heard the voice, his suspicions were confirmed. "Jill's alive. We've got her but there's still no sign of Chuck."

"I know," she said, setting her gun down. She flipped on the hallway switch but held fast to the door, barring entrance.

"How?" Bryce demanded, his tone full of barely concealed anger. "Sarah, I told you not to do anything stupid—"

Sarah glanced at Chuck behind the door and gave the slightest nod. Chuck smiled and got back onto his feet, peering over the edge of the door.

Bryce jumped back, looking as if he saw a ghost. Brows furrowing deep in concentration, the man pushed his way into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

"Chuck?" he whispered, staring in disbelief.

"Surprised to see me?" he asked, standing in his week-old clothes. Bryce was immaculately dressed as always, but for some reason Chuck still felt like he could hold his head up high.

"Why didn't you call?" Bryce demanded, turning his attention to Sarah. "You could have saved us hours of searching."

Sarah clenched her jaw. "I would have," she said tersely. "Eventually."

"We're sorry," Chuck added. He placed a steadying hand on Sarah's arm, squeezing it gently as a warning.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Bryce," Sarah finally said, though she sounded more annoyed than anything else. "I should have called earlier. We were distracted."

Bryce grunted, not completely satisfied with the answer. "I'm sorry too. I didn't think we'd see our old friend again."

Chuck flinched. The reminder of events past left everyone in an awkward silence.

Bryce looked over the two of them, his hand combing through his neatly gelled hair.

_Don't be a jerk,_ Chuck reminded. "Do you feel like dinner?" he asked.

Bryce looked relieved by the offer. "Yeah, that would be great."

Chuck looked down at his wife. "Sarah?"

She had one of the strangest expressions on her face. "Depends on what we're having…" she said. Chuck wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

_

"Pancakes!" Chuck announced, setting the first stack down on the dining table.

"For dinner?" Bryce asked, looking dubious.

"Well there isn't anything in the house except for pancake mix," he responded, nearly wielding his spatula as a weapon. "What were you expecting?"

Bryce shrugged. "Steak? Mashed potatoes and gravy?"

Chuck wrinkled his brows. _High expectations indeed_. "Sorry, Bryce, nothing of the sort here." He double-checked with Sarah and she smirked, looking terribly pleased for someone with such a meagre meal.

"Well, this is all we have. Take it or leave it," Chuck said. "There's another batch coming up."

Bryce's arms remained crossed and he eyed the slightly burnt, irregularly shaped slabs of dough with suspicion.

"Your loss," Sarah said, ignoring the utensils set out and using her hands to lift the first one off the stack. "Chuck, wait up!"

She followed her husband back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Chuck attempted to flip a pancake using the momentum of the pan.

"Are you sure it's safe for you to stand there?" he asked, grimacing as the pancake flipped in the air and landed half in-half out of the pan.

Sarah suppressed a laugh; her cheeks bulging with food. "Do you want me to try?"

"I am quite capable," he said, his eyes fixed in concentration.

She rolled her eyes. "Clearly," she said. "Hurry up, I'm starving." She stole another pancake from the bottom of the stack, biting off more than she could chew.

Chuck glanced worriedly at her. "Sarah…why isn't there any food in the fridge?"

She shrugged her shoulders but he saw behind the aloofness. "I ate it all."

"Down to the last ice cube?"

She finished the rest of the food in her hand in two bites. "Down to the last ice cube," she confirmed. Her eyes were bright with daring and Chuck knew he would never win the argument. But it only served to confirm what he already knew—that he had been a complete and total idiot for ever doubting his wife.

Pushing the dark thoughts aside, he focused on his cooking.

"I never knew you liked pancakes so much," Chuck remarked, handing her another.

She smirked at him, her mouth too full to reveal a wider smile. "Yeah, who would have thought I'd miss your cooking."

The banter had started out so innocently, but in an instant the light in her eyes had faded. Chuck realized even though they felt comfortable enough to talk about the past, it would never bring them any happy memories.

"Here," he said, lifting the pancake off the pan with his spatula. "Hot off the press—" Chuck spun around too quickly and the floppy flat-cake slumped off the end of his spatula, falling to the floor.

He cursed softly under his breath for being such a klutz. "Sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Sarah said and lifted the pancake off the floor, folding it in her hands.

"Sarah! There's plenty of other ones; throw that away."

The blond haired woman wrinkled her brows. "Why? This one's perfectly fine."

"Don't put that in your mouth," Chuck warned, pointing with his spatula. "It came off the floor."

"Five-second rule," she said and took a defiant first bite. "Besides, the floor's clean enough to eat off of."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Since when?"

Sarah laughed, nearly spitting up pancake pieces. She wouldn't say, but Chuck did notice that the tiles were cleaner than he remembered.

"Since always, Chuck. Pay attention."

_

Talk was short at the dinner table. Sarah wasn't in nearly as playful of a mood when seated beside Bryce, and conversation steered decisively towards the situation at hand.

"We have Jill in a holding facility. She'll be transported back to D.C. as soon as we have the flight arranged."

A smidge of guilt crossed Chuck's mind. Jill had been caught because she trusted him. Because she had waited for him.

"Chuck?" Sarah's hand hovered over his. "You okay?"

He nodded absent-mindedly, afraid to let on that he might care for the accused. "So what happens now?"

Bryce sighed, clasping his hands out in front of him. "Well now we try to take down as much of their organization as we can. They're still at large."

"I could show you where they kept me. It's in the industrial district about an hour's drive away…"

Bryce shook his head. "It's too late. They'll have cleaned the place out; it won't even look like they've ever been there." He raked his hand through his hair, allowing the longer strands to spill in front of his face. "With any luck we'll get her to talk."

Sarah arched her brows. Bryce caught the look and shrugged. "Yeah, I know," he acknowledged.

Sarah picked at her pancake, her expression severely subdued. Chuck looked at the two of them, too oblivious to understand the implications of what this all meant. He didn't even know who Jill worked for or what they were after.

"So we have no idea where they've gone," Sarah said. Bryce seemed to confirm her suspicions with his silence.

The blue-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. "We're back to square one."

Sarah put her half-eaten pancake down, refusing food for the first time this evening. If nothing else, it was a sure sign that things looked grim.

Bryce finally broke the news. "Sarah, once they hear Chuck's back they'll want him underground."

Sarah raised her brows. She didn't resist.

"Sarah?" Chuck caught her gaze, but her expression left nothing to look forward to.

"It's okay, Chuck," she said, rubbing her temples. "We'll figure this out."

"No. Who's _they_? Why do I have to go underground?"

Bryce slammed his fist onto the table. "Don't you get it, Chuck? These people aren't going to just let you go. They're going to hunt you down."

Chuck looked to Sarah but her silence seemed to reiterate his meaning exactly.

"You spent two weeks with them. You've seen their operations," he reminded.

"No!" Chuck held up his hands defensively. "No, I didn't. They put me in a room in front of a computer all day. I never saw anything."

Bryce didn't look convinced, and Chuck knew if he couldn't even convince his friend, he had little chance of convincing the powers that be.

"It'll be temporary," Sarah said, gently taking his hand. "It is the safest thing to do right now."

Chuck couldn't be appeased though. "What about Ellie and Awesome? What about my friends?"

Sarah chewed at the corner of her lips, her eyes filled with indecision.

Bryce beat her to the punch. "They'll be fine. Don't tell them anything. The safest thing for you to do is to disappear."

"NO!" Chuck was surprised to hear Sarah's voice join his in unison. Bryce too.

"No," Sarah repeated, easing back down into her seat. "We'll take them with us."

"No!" Bryce stared at her as if she had gone insane. "Sarah, you know we can't. You can't expose Chuck's secret."

Chuck clutched his head in frustration, feeling ready to tear out his hair. Secrets, this was all about secrets. Secrets he kept from his family, secrets Sarah kept from him, secrets he'd hid from Jill—

"Oh my God."

Sarah leapt out of her seat. "Chuck? Chuck, what's wrong? Are you alright?" She ran to his side and hovered, just short of shaking an answer from him. "What's wrong? Does your head hurt?"

Chuck had to take a minute to calm himself. "Yeah..." he said slowly. He held Sarah still, seeing as how she seemed to need the assurance more than he did. "Yeah. I just realized something."

"Like what?" Bryce demanded.

"I wouldn't have to go underground if you caught these people, right?"

Bryce didn't answer him.

"Chuck?" Sarah asked, her brows peaked with curiosity. "What is this about?"

Chuck licked his lips, still trying to figure out how to explain the whole situation without sounding crazy.

"You said you didn't know where they've gone—"

"No. And any trace of them will have been wiped by the time you lead us back to their facility," Bryce reminded tersely. "We're wasting time here," he said, standing to his feet. "Pack your bags. We have to go."

"No." Chuck jammed his hands into his trouser pockets, standing his ground.

Bryce did a double-take, then realizing that Chuck was serious, bared his teeth. "What do you mean no?" He looked to the blond for support. "Sarah, you know I'm not playing around here. We have to go."

Sarah's shoulders slumped forwards in resignation as she looked up at her husband. "Chuck," she said, taking his hand. "As much as I hate the idea...if we don't go along with Bryce, they're going to remove us by force." She squeezed his hand and looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Please tell me you understand."

Chuck wrapped his arms around Sarah's waist, reassuring her as well as he could without drawing too much attention in front of Bryce. "I do," he said. "But I'm not going to hide underground."

"Come on, Chuck!" Bryce exclaimed. "This is for the best. I'm just trying to do you a favour."

Chuck read his friend's expression of impatience easily; the man was doing nothing to hide it.

"I know," he said, and found the sudden irresistible urge to smile. "That's why I'm going to do _you_ a favour."


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Thought you should know, next chapter will be the last. We're almost done! _

_

* * *

_Chapter 22:

They caught the first flight out to D.C. and the five hour journey was unremarkable save for the fact Chuck and Sarah were the only ones on the privately commissioned plane. For the first time since everything began, Chuck realized he was involved in something far bigger than the domains of his simple life.

This was a part of his past he'd never revisited. The part that was supposed to go away. The thought of it still seemed like something contrived out of a storybook; it had never felt quite real—until now.

Beside him, Sarah seemed to sense his anxiety. "You okay?" she asked.

"Huh?" Chuck looked away from the window view and saw that she had her fingers firmly ensnared in his. By the telling arch of her brow, he knew he had no hope of passing with a lie. "You know, sometimes I sweat because I'm hot," he said, loosening the collar of his shirt.

She squeezed his hand, not minding the stickiness of his touch. "When we land, things might get overwhelming."

Chuck gulped. As if the suspicious looking cars with tinted windows and the private airstrip with military guards wasn't already enough.

"It's okay, just tell them what you told me and Bryce."

When Sarah looked at him that way, Chuck didn't think there was anything he wouldn't do for her. She could tell him to jump and he'd leap off the roof, no questions asked.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, running his free hand across her hollowed cheeks. "You should be resting."

Annoyance flitted across Sarah's features. "You're not leaving me again, Mr. Bartowski," she warned, an innocent tease. Still, her words elicited a deep pang in Chuck's chest.

"I'm—"

"Don't." Sarah's eyes eclipsed with darkness. "_Don't_," she repeated in a softer tone, but the warning behind her words was still just as fierce. "You promised."

Chuck looked down at their interlocked fingers. He didn't think he could squeeze her hand any harder.

"Never again," he swore and kissed the top of her head. He wouldn't make any more apologies for what happened, but he vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for it.

_

Chuck stepped off of the plane and into the blinding sunlight. He shielded his eyes with his hand, squinting at the line of somberly suited agents awaiting them. They were surrounded on all sides.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

Sarah gave him an encouraging nod and they walked together towards the man in charge.

"Walker, you look like crap," the stranger said, short on sentiments.

Sarah stood to her full height but she still came up short. "Come to welcome us back?" She smirked; the man could be as snide as he wanted but she'd pointed out the obvious discrepancy between his tone and his actions.

The man grunted once. Slowly but surely, he returned her smile.

"I see you haven't succeeded much in keeping him out of trouble," he said, finally acknowledging Chuck's presence. The man lifted his shades, revealing a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Chuck frowned. "Dr. Casey?" he asked. He hadn't seen the humorless physician since the launch of his game.

The doctor's eyes widened with genuine intrigue. "Wow, Walker, you really left him in the dark." He laughed dryly as he shook his head. "It's too bad he lost his memories, now he doesn't remember all the dumbass mistakes he's made. Looks like he's just going to make them all over again."

Somehow, Chuck sensed his relationship with the doctor had always been this way and that this kind of condescending talk was _normal._ What concerned him more was the look of annoyance in Sarah's cerulean eyes.

The tension between them was only barely concealed under the pretenses of professionalism.

"Did we work together, Dr. Casey?" Chuck asked, grabbing Sarah's arm discretely in the event she did something rash.

"Stop calling him that, he's not a real doctor," she hissed, shooting daggers at the broad-shouldered man.

"No," Casey said. "I'm just the guy who saves your life." When Chuck failed to express any degree of gratitude, Casey looked disgruntled. "You're welcome," he snarled with an accompanying grunt.

Casey turned his back and began to stalk towards the line of sleek black vehicles. "Come on, we going to stand in the sun all day?"

The cluster of suits mimicked his actions, moving like lemmings to their respective cars. Sarah and Chuck were the last to follow.

"Hey, Sarah," Chuck called as he caught up to his wife. "You and Casey…"

Sarah stopped in her tracks, the blood draining from her face. "Me and Casey what?"

Chuck glanced in the doctor's direction, assessing him more carefully. He was certainly not the refined, polished sort of man Bryce Larkin was, but Casey had a rugged, diamond-in-the-rough kind of appeal.

"Finish that thought and you'll find yourself on the couch for the rest of your life," she threatened, slapping him on the arm. For someone so thin, she had an incredibly strong hand.

"Okay, just a thought," Chuck said quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Really? Casey?" She said the man's name as if he had just implicated her with the creepy middle-aged accountant at her workplace. "Have you lost your mind?"

Chuck smirked. The answer was too easy.

"I'm sure the guy has his good qualities," he reasoned. "I'll bet he's a big ol' softie underneath that tough-guy exterior."

Silence.

Chuck turned to Sarah, panic sweeping over his body as he caught her grimace.

Then her face split into a massive grin and he heard the unmistakable sound of laughter. She fell against him, nearly doubling over with hilarity. The sound drew Casey's attention and he snapped his head in their direction, his thin lips pressed firmly into a definitive frown.

Chuck smiled sheepishly and waved. He couldn't quite make out what the man said under his breath, but he had the distinct feeling it wasn't something that ought to be repeated.

_

"We've got Roberts detained but she hasn't been transferred to her permanent site just yet," Casey pointed out as they strolled down the immaculate halls of an undisclosed location. "Had an exchange with Bryce," he mentioned casually.

Sarah glanced up at him, her eyes betraying a look of alarm. Casey smirked. "Don't worry, no gunplay…not that I didn't want to." He winked at Chuck and Chuck managed a frightened smile. He was sure he had no idea what the man was talking about.

"Where are we going?" Chuck asked.

"To talk to his superior…_our_ former superior," Sarah explained. "Don't worry," she was quick to add. "You've met before."

It did little to calm him. He might have shaken hands with the president of the United States but that didn't mean he was any more acquainted with him either. He tried to picture what Casey's superior would be like, but he couldn't imagine anyone more intense and intimidating than the good doctor.

"What about Jill? Can I see her?"

Sarah looked abruptly at him and Chuck could see he'd said the wrong thing.

"Sorry, it's okay," he said, trying to backtrack. "I…you know what? I don't even know what I'm talking about—"

"Yes." Sarah nodded casually, but Chuck saw the concern ingrained so deeply in her eyes. She didn't ask why, didn't accuse him of sympathizing with an enemy of the state. All Sarah did was look to Casey for confirmation. "She's still in the interrogation room, isn't she?"

Casey grunted but for once, kept his smart remarks to himself. He checked his watch for the time. "Make it fast. This better not be an afternoon matinee of the _Titanic_."

The odd reference made Chuck raise his brows but the scowl he was greeted with kept him from cracking a joke at the doctor's expense.

.

They changed course but one hallway looked the same as the next and Chuck wasn't sure they were moving anywhere but in a circle. Finally Casey stopped them at a door posted with heavily armed guards. The door itself was state of the art and Casey had to run through several scans to unlock it.

Chuck had no idea Jill could be so dangerous.

"Okay, make it quick." Casey held the door open and nodded inside to the second door. It was guarded by two more armed guards.

Chuck hesitated. All this security was making him queasy. Perhaps this was a mistake.

What was there left to say? _Hi, I can't believe you lied to me--again.  
_

And yet, stupid as all this was, he felt compelled to.

"You sure this is okay?" he asked, looking down at Sarah. The woman nodded, trying to hide her fears from him. "Do you want to come with me?"

For a second he thought she was about to say 'yes' but changing her mind, she shook her head.

"Do what you have to do, and come back to me," she whispered.

Chuck could hardly believe his ears. If they were in each other's shoes, could he say the same?

Chuck didn't think it was possible for him to love her any more than he already did. She understood him better than he understood himself.

"Thank you." Kissing Sarah goodbye, which elicited a fairly loud groan on Casey's part, Chuck walked into the room.

_

The room felt like a box; if Chuck stepped on his tip-toes he was in danger of hitting the ceiling. It had all the rudimentary furnishings. There was a table bolted to the ground and a long mirror that covered an entire wall length-wise. Then there was her.

The sight of her wrung his heart. She hung her head low; her once silken strands of hair now poured messily over the front of her face. They had Jill cuffed and bound to the chair, hands _and_ feet. To Chuck it all seemed a bit excessive. She was just one woman.

Hearing his footsteps, Jill looked up, her eyes deep pools of loathing. When she realized who it was, they softened and tears began to well in them.

"Chuck?" she mouthed quietly.

Chuck stepped forwards hesitantly, afraid to maintain eye contact for too long. He had to remember that this was a power she had, manipulating those around her with just one look. In her eyes he was the gazelle with a limp in its step; the vulnerable creature in her predatory game.

"Chuck," she uttered again, her voice breaking. Chuck tried to avoid the siren call but she forced him to look at her, to look at the bleeding cut on her lip and the bruises on her cheeks. "Chuck!"

Chuck took a deep breath and took the seat opposite her. He steadied his breath and looked at her as she wanted, acknowledging that she was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

"Chuck, please," she sobbed. "Help me."

How could he say no? Jill was bound to the chair, bleeding and bruised; _helpless...defenseless..._Chuck's mouth felt so dry he could barely swallow his fears. "How?"

She leaned forwards in her seat. "Fix my hair?"

A terrible urge overcame him and his fingers itched to help her straighten the long bangs pressed over her sweat-soaked forehead.

"I don't know," Chuck said, looking nervously into his reflection against the wall. His realized his eyes were wide with bewilderment and his frame was shaking. He shook his head. "No, Jill, I don't think that's a good idea."

Jill began to cry, her shoulders heaving. "How could you, Chuck, I trusted you."

Chuck swallowed slowly. She was so compelling. If he hadn't discovered her lies earlier, Chuck knew he would be undoing her bonds by now.

"How could _I_?" he repeated, searching for his own voice. The look on Jill's face grated on Chuck's nerves. He felt her powers slipping away as the tides turned and he broke free from her emotional triad. "You preyed on me, Jill. I trusted you."

"You're wrong!" she wept. "There's still time to amend your mistakes—"

"Stop it, Jill!" he commanded, his voice rising over hers. "You knew I wouldn't remember anything. You played me, right from the start."

"No!" She shook her head fervently. "I wouldn't!"

"Then say it. Say you never lied." Chuck stared at her, thinking back to their first meeting. She'd been everything he'd ever wanted then, but being with her these last few weeks, he realized he wasn't the same guy he was ten years ago.

Whatever had happened in the time inbetween was irrelevant. Casey was right; he'd forgotten all his past mistakes and was making them all over again.

"Say it," he pressed. He was not going to make this mistake again.

Jill's lips trembled but she couldn't speak. They sat in silence and she told him everything with one pitiful glance.

"Please, Chuck," she begged. "I did it for you. For _us._" Her shackles clanged against the chair as she tried to reach for him. "Please, there's still time."

Chuck closed his eyes. He could still smell the faint scent of clementine's on the sweat of her skin. Her tragic eyes were still as brown as Cadbury's milk chocolates. But this was not the Jill he'd once known from the innocent days of his past.

"Not for us there isn't," Chuck said, his heart filling with sadness. "It's over."

He expected relief to wash over him as he said the words but there was no such thing. He felt like all their moments together were strung on balloons and he'd just let them go, all a hundred-thousand of them into the wind. Everything; the good, the bad, the hideous…just gone.

He felt a great emptiness carve its way through his chest.

He felt like he'd lost a friend.

"Chuck!" she pleaded, struggling against the chains. "Please!"

Chuck shook his head. Jill had tainted all the memories of their time together. Even if some were real, he had no way of knowing. It was simply safer to forget them all.

"Goodbye, Jill."

Chuck got up out of the chair and headed for the door. He told himself not to look over his shoulder, but even when he did; he felt unaffected by the shadow of a stranger weeping in the chair.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: A long chapter, i know, but i didn't think i'd make friends if i split the ending in two parts. here is the final chapter, enjoy.  
_

_

* * *

_Chapter 21:

Chuck and Sarah sat in the chairs of the sparsely furnished waiting room, doing just that. Casey had entered through the locked doors alone and Chuck was sure any moment now he would have to cross the half dozen steps it took from his seat to that place of no return.

Until then, they had the place to themselves.

The silence was so prolonged the tiny room felt endless. Chuck sighed and looked down at the woman sitting beside him. Her posture was so rigid and still he might have mistaken her for a statue.

"You heard everything, didn't you?" he asked. She had greeted him outside the interrogation room with glistening eyes and a mixed look of relief and apprehension. Casey had prevented them from discussing the matter immediately, but he wasn't here to stop them now.

She nodded.

"Then you should know that there's only you," he said, putting his arm around her. She eased a little but her face was still etched with lines of worry. "I'll never trust another brunette again," he swore. He'd learned his lesson.

Sarah didn't take to the joke the way he thought she would. "The way you said it…it was so final," she said. "Like you'll never see her again, never allow her into your heart."

Chuck leaned closer, wondering if he was hard of hearing. "That's good…right?"

Sarah's lips pressed tightly together as she forced on a brave face. "I lied to you, Chuck," she said. "I told you I quit my job and I didn't. I didn't tell you about Bryce when I should have, about Jill, about the people we brought down…" Chuck began to panic when he saw fat tears well in Sarah's brilliant eyes.

"Sarah," he sighed, wondering how a woman so intelligent could sometimes be so silly. "You had your reasons. How could you compare yourself to Jill?" He cradled her face in his hands, making sure she was looking him straight in the eye.

"I don't know what I would do if you said that to me," she whispered. "I can't even imagine—"

Chuck stopped her there. "Don't," he warned, in the same tone she had used on him. "You never have to." He kissed her, capturing her lips ever so gently with his. Since his return, he found he was losing himself deeper and deeper to her with each day that passed. She was like drug he couldn't live without, her presence alone—

"Have some respect, Bartowski!" Chuck jumped back, tearing away from the embrace only to find Casey hovering over them. "Don't you realize where you are?"

Being scolded was bad enough but hearing it from Casey made Chuck feel like he was a child again, and the experience was unsettling.

He looked speechlessly at Sarah who wore an entirely different expression. If only looks could kill, the darkness behind her eyes would have Casey on the ground squirming in agony.

"Okay, is it my turn?" he asked, doing the man a favor by breaking the unspoken tension.

Casey grunted. He looked as if he might have enjoyed pushing Sarah's buttons a little further. "Come on. She wants all of us."

Chuck gulped. _She?_

_

When Casey informed that his superior was a she, Chuck's first thought was Camille. Long-legged, lethal Camille with her smoldering eyes and terribly sharp nails. On cue his palms began to sweat and he wobbled shakily into the guarded room.

The woman behind the desk was nothing like he'd imagined however. She was tiny, half his height, and her features were nearly _grandmotherly_ though he would never dare admit it. He couldn't imagine how this woman could boss Casey around when the man looked like he could snap her in two, but then again, Chuck didn't read people very well.

"Take a seat, Mr. Bartowski," she said, and offered up the only seat other seat in her office besides her own. Chuck stepped obediently forwards only to realize that the seat was already occupied.

"Hey, Chuck."

Chuck sighed. He was never going to exorcise this man from his life. "Hey, Bryce," he said, unable to keep the defeat from entering his voice.

Chuck watched as the man relinquished the armchair and walked over to the side, to the wall Casey and Sarah were already standing against.

He held his breath in apprehension as he saw Bryce place a hand on Sarah's shoulder. She said something under her breath, and he removed the offending limb as if he'd just placed it on hot coals. Something passed between them, a look that Chuck recognized from the night Bryce first re-entered their lives, but her piercing gaze held nothing more than a warning.

Chuck sighed in relief and took his seat.

The little old woman sat down across from him, the back of her chair rising high over her head. The seat looked like it could swallow her whole.

"Now then, Mr. Bartowski," she began, placing her clasped hands out in front of her. "I would like to start off by thanking you for your work."

Chuck frowned, not sure what she was referring to really. His eyes darted down to the engraved plate sitting at the end of her desk. _D. Beckman._

"Mrs. Beckman—" Chuck stopped himself as he heard a grating cough from Casey's end of the room. "_Miss_ Beckman?" he said in a quiet voice.

The older woman sitting across from him narrowed her eyes.

"_Director _Beckman?" He gritted his teeth, fearing the consequences that would soon befall him.

"Your point, please," she said curtly.

"Right, that. I'm not really sure what work you are referring to you, see, because I haven't done anything as of yet…"

Beckman gave a tight-lipped smile, augmenting the effect of all her wrinkles.

"Agent Larkin has written a very detailed report on everything you've reported. I've had my men look into it and thus far, we are very pleased with the _progress_."

Chuck gulped. He was sure the woman was speaking in pure euphemisms now.

"Now, what else can you tell me?"

Chuck blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"The documents that Camille had you look through were very sensitive in nature. You've given us a lot to go on," she said, speaking slowly for his sake. "If you remember anything else, anything at all, it would be instrumental in bringing down their organization."

It took a moment for her words to sink in. He swallowed slowly and stared at her small, wizened face.

"Okay."

"Good." Beckman smiled a little wider this time. "So, what can you tell me?"

Chuck turned to Sarah and she offered him an encouraging nod. He gulped again and closed his eyes, making sure he still had it.

"Chuck?" the woman prompted.

Chuck took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how he felt about confessing his biggest secret, but if Sarah thought it was okay…

"Everything. I can tell you everything." He laughed nervously because he wasn't sure if she believed him. "I know it's strange, it's still strange for me too…" He paused and held out his hands, as if there was some way for him to show her what he meant. "But if I focus really hard and try to recall what I saw, I can see them right in front of me." He looked down at his open palms and like pages from a book; he could picture the documents as if he were holding them. "That's weird, right?"

Beckman frowned but she didn't look like she doubted him for a minute.

"There are many things you don't understand, Chuck, and perhaps it's for the best we don't get into it," she said after some consideration. "You are not like the others; let us put it that way."

Chuck was reminded of the way his mother used to speak to him when he was little and the last thing he needed was for a complete stranger to take him for a trip down memory lane.

"I don't understand," he said flatly.

"When you first held sensitive information in your memory, it was impulsive and you had no way of retrieving the data. You had to rely on a trigger." Beckman sighed, and Chuck understood her reluctance. He had those memories removed for a reason; perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to be reminded. "Over time your brain evolved so that you could trigger those memories on your own.

"Based on Agent Larkin's report, it appears you were once again exposed to the type of program that implanted the data into your memory the first time. I can only assume that you've recalled your former skill and capacity unbeknownst to yourself."

Chuck frowned. "So I have a photographic memory?" That would have been useful ten years ago in Stanford.

"Not exactly. You are…" she struggled for the word. "Not like the others."

Chuck looked behind him at the three familiars standing against the wall. Sarah smiled at him, looking no different than before. He couldn't believe she loved him for all his weirdness.

"So Chuck," Beckman said, drawing back his attention. "Will you tell us what you know?"

Chuck gulped. "What happens afterwards? Are you going to wipe my memories again?" At the thought, his spine grew rigid with fear and he felt every muscle in his body tense. Chuck couldn't accept it. Not after all this, this torture of not knowing.

Beckman's eyes clouded with annoyance. "We will discuss that later."

"No." No more. He wanted them, all of them, even the things he'd rather not know; he just couldn't live in the dark again. "Now."

Chuck gripped onto the edge of the table, seconds from standing up and walking out the door. He was certainly not going to let go of his bargaining chip before they gave him an answer.

"These memories are staying here," he said, pointing to his head. "I promise I won't think about the files. I can't see them unless I want to, and I won't look at them again. You can trust me on that."

Chuck saw a glimmer of what Casey might have to fear in the old woman's eyes. She had the gaze of a predator, a look that warned she always got what she wanted—one way or another.

"Might I remind you, Mr. Bartowski, that it was never our intention to remove your memories the first time," she informed. "You made the decision for yourself and insisted."

"Oh." Chuck looked down, feeling a little sheepish. Right, he should have known.

"I would be happy to refer you to our agency's neurologist—" Beckman paused, a hint of a smile on her face. "But that is something we will have to discuss at a later time." The old woman slipped on a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses, losing all the severity of her composure in that one single act. "If you cooperate, Mr. Bartowski, I might even be able to convince the doctor to give you a staff discount."

Chuck laughed nervously. Had Beckman just made a joke?

"Please," the old woman implored, returning to her former state. "Tell us what you know."

"Don't worry," Casey growled with just a smidgeon of sarcasm. "We have _all_ day."

"You sure?" Chuck asked, glancing his way. "Because I wouldn't want you to miss your afternoon matinee."

Casey's eyes bulged and Chuck swore if he hadn't been sitting so close to the man's superior, he would have been torn to pieces.

_

Chuck told Beckman everything he knew, speaking as if he were reading off the pages themselves. The tiny woman scribbled notes and the tape-recorder took down everything else. Beckman wasn't satisfied with the summary he'd given Bryce, she wanted everything, every minute detail down to the mustard stain on page fifty of folder twenty-one.

The tiny woman seemed to lap up the information, hungrily searching his eyes for more. None of it meant anything to Chuck; they were just coordinates, schematics and lists of names. He had no idea it would be so important, never thought Camille would allow him access to things so vital.

But that was precisely it, wasn't it? No one expected him to know, to understand, what any of it meant. Information was just random data until someone decided to do something with it; and Chuck never had any intention.

Hours passed and by the end of it, his throat felt like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other and he had a splitting headache.

"I'm sorry," he said, collapsing against the back of the chair. "I need a break."

Beckman sighed and put down her pen but she seemed to understand. "That's fine. Step outside and get a drink. We'll reconvene again in fifteen." Her words were crisp and to the point.

Chuck stood up on shaky legs, but no one moved to follow him. He looked to Sarah in question but she shook her head.

"Let's continue," Beckman said behind him. The three individuals against the wall stood to attention. "Is there a problem, Mr. Bartowski?" she asked, peering over her reading glasses.

"No," Chuck said with a shake of his head. He wasn't sure how the others did it, but they looked as if they'd just entered the room and not been standing for the last five odd hours.

Casey narrowed his eyes and a growl escaped his throat.

"No, Ma'am," Chuck corrected and quickly left the room. He could tell Beckman had plans that didn't involve him and he was more than happy to wait outside where he was free of the old woman's razor sharp eyes.

_

After some time, the doors to her office opened again and Bryce stepped out.

"Are you guys done?" Chuck asked, offering the man a bottle of water.

Bryce took it and downed half the container in one go. "Almost," he said inbetween gulps. "We're just wrapping up. She wants you back in."

"Okay." Chuck stood up and straightened his suit. "Hey, Bryce?"

Bryce stopped to regard him.

"That day in the deli. What you said…was it true?" He saw the gears in Bryce's head begin to jog back to that first exchange between them. "Were we friends?"

Despite all his efforts, he couldn't hide the truth from Chuck. He swallowed with difficulty, clearing his throat even though there was nothing wrong with his voice.

"I'd like to be." His face twitched as if someone had just struck him. "You were my best friend, Chuck."

The confession came as a shock. Bryce Larkin was supposed to be all confidence and fearlessness. There were many adjectives to describe the agent, brave, handsome, charming—but certainly not vulnerable.

"Right," Chuck said, letting his voice trail off. It was disarming to see his friend in a whole new light.

"I'd still like us to be friends," the man ventured.

Chuck nodded slowly. It had to be lonely to be Bryce Larkin. All the allure and excitement of living a double-life didn't compare to the lies and alienation. Chuck had only a taste of it these last few weeks and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

He was so glad he had a home to return to, a family to depend on, and a woman he loved and trusted to call his wife.

_Don't be a jerk. You've already lost a friend today, don't lose another. _

Chuck nodded slowly, showing him an encouraging smile. "Yeah. Friends."

_

It was another six hours before Beckman decided to end the day. Chuck knew if she had her way that they and the others would have continued on for as long as it took to purge Chuck's mind in its entirety but he was only human, and a frail human at that.

Close to midnight Chuck found words escape him and the images that had once come so easily to mind begin to fade.

"I'm sorry," he said, and turned his palms upwards. He had given her as much as he could. Any more and he might become a vegetable.

"That's fine," Beckman said crisply, then with a smile added: "There's still tomorrow."

_And the day after. And the day after_. As long as it took for him to tell them everything he knew.

"Get some sleep. See you at oh-six-hundred." The little old woman waved at the people standing silently behind Chuck. "Dismissed."

Chuck rolled his eyes. How generous of the general. In another few hours he would get to do this all over again.

As he pried his weary body out of the chair, he caught Sarah smile and offer her hand. She looked completely unaffected by the draining monotony that must have come with standing all day in the office and instead greeted him as if she was just getting ready to start her day.

"You okay?" she asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes were bright with wakefulness and her smile was as brilliant as the morning sun. Chuck only nodded his head; it was just so unfair.

"Oh and Agent Walker—" Beckman removed her reading glasses and gazed up at the pair.

Chuck and Sarah stopped in mid-stride. Casey and Bryce exited the room without even a second glance and they were soon alone with the woman.

"Yes?" The brevity to Sarah's reply was so slight Chuck didn't think Beckman would have noticed but he saw through all her other tells; the way her eyes darkened to a stormy blue, the sudden tension in her grip, the way she gnawed on a corner of her lip.

"Think about what I said."

Sarah shook her head. "There's nothing to think about, Ma'am," she insisted and turned back to face the door.

"I won't be making the offer again so I suggest you take some time to think your decision through."

Chuck gulped. He didn't know who to be more afraid of. Both women were speaking in the politest of tenses but there was more to their bluff. Any second now one of them was going to reveal their hand and Chuck couldn't see a solution where he wasn't caught in the middle.

"She will, Ma'am. Thank you." Chuck pulled on Sarah's hand and they left the room before the blond could speak her mind.

Sarah shot him a look of annoyance once they were in the hallway. "I won't," she said. "I've already made up my mind."

Chuck just smiled as they walked side by side; the tap of her heels matching in perfect tempo with the beat of his dress shoes. "She's right. You might change your mind." He gave her a playful nudge. "How would you feel if you just said no to the winning lottery ticket?"

Sarah nudged him back twice as hard, digging her elbow into his ribs. "It won't be. And even if it were, that's just too bad."

"Sarah—"

"Chuck." Chuck knew the tone all too well but he couldn't keep from shaking his head. Her stubbornness was something else.

"Fine," he acquiesced with a slow smile. He only hoped she remembered he had a persistence to match. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her close; close enough to whisper into her ear.

"Do you really think she'll be good on her word?"

Sarah tensed and her brows furrowed just so. "Yes," she said slowly, sneaking a peek over her shoulder. They were alone in the spotless hallway.

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked softly. "Because I remember what you told me…about before. About the last time I had secrets stuck in my head."

Sarah's arms drew around his torso, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Tangled in each other's limbs they were an awkward sight but Chuck wouldn't have it any other way.

"I know, but it won't be the same," she whispered.

"No," he agreed. "It's much worse because I don't remember anything this time and I still have secrets stuck in my head."

She shook her head. "But if we catch them and take them down, they wouldn't be secrets anymore, would they?" She kissed him tenderly and had Casey been in the vicinity, it would have surely been enough to deserve a reprimand.

Chuck's fingers dove into Sarah's soft blond tresses, ruining the careful arrangement that had withstood the long day and night. "I'm not leaving you again," he said. He couldn't lose his memories a second time; never—ever—again.

Sarah stared into his eyes, blue pools tinged with ripples of sadness. The corners of her lips wavered on the edge between a smile and a frown, but slowly…surely…they turned upwards; victorious.

"Oh, Chuck," she said, shaking her head for emphasis. "You couldn't if you tried."

_

It was very late or rather early, depending on the perspective, by the time Chuck and Sarah returned to their hotel room. Wordlessly Chuck tugged off his tie, shrugged off his jacket and threw his shoes into a corner of the room. With a groan, he collapsed onto the neatly made bed, causing an avalanche of pillows to fall to the ground.

Behind him, Sarah suppressed a laugh as she removed her heels and earrings, putting everything neatly away.

"I need a shower," she announced, beginning the arduous task of taking apart the tiny buttons on her blouse. She grinned, baring the tips of her canines in a purely predatory manner. "Care to join me?"

Chuck grinned like a fool. "Sarah," he called and held out his hand. Reluctantly she stepped out of the bright bathroom light and into the muted bedroom shade. "Are you sure?" he asked, interlocking his fingers with hers.

"About a shower?" she asked, arching her brows. "Pretty sure."

Chuck shook his head, knowing full well she was dodging. "About the offer."

"That again." Sarah's smile fell and she sat down on the mattress beside him, letting her legs dangle over the edge. "Yeah," she said. "I'm sure."

"Because I don't want to hold you back." He pinned the stray strands of hair behind her ear so he had a full view of her face. "What Beckman offered, that's huge. Casey and Bryce were practically drooling when she said she wanted to put you in charge of the tactical team."

Sarah lowered her eyes, looking like she was a thousand miles from where they were. "They can have it," she said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

Chuck was not so easily convinced. "I know this means a lot to you. You've probably worked your whole life for this."

She drew in a sharp breath and sighed. When she clutched his hand, her fingers were ice cold.

"I don't want you to look back and regret this for the rest of your life. If you need to do this, then do it. I'll wait." Chuck didn't know what was wrong with him, but nothing he said seemed right. Sarah's eyes glistened with tears as she looked ruefully up at him. "Life with me can be boring, I know. That's why you took the analyst job."

She winced at his accusation. "No," she said, swallowing hard. "Yes…maybe at first I missed it," she confessed. "I thought it was what I needed. I didn't think I could do _normal. _But when you weren't there, I hated it. Every moment of it." She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest. "You are what I need."

The words drenched over Chuck like hot fudge; so warm and undeniably sweet.

"No regrets?"

She shook her head without hesitation. "None. I don't think I can handle any more excitement in my life, Chuck. It nearly killed me." She kissed him, even now trembling with nerves. "I don't think I've ever wanted normalcy so badly my whole life."

Chuck laughed softly into her ear. "You think you can handle being _just_ normal?"

"I want us to live out the rest of our ordinary lives in peace and quiet. Just us." She kissed him again, a little surer of herself. "Just two regular people working their regular jobs."

"You won't be bored?" he asked, looking dubious.

She arched her brow at him. "Normal is not boring," she informed with a slow smile. Without warning, she pushed him down flat on the bed. "I think you need to be taught a lesson, Mr. Bartowski," she said as she slid against him, pinning him underneath her.

"Really?" Chuck gasped, feeling suddenly breathless.

"Really," she confirmed as she captured his mouth with hers. Third time was the charm and her kiss was fierce with desire.

Chuck looked up at her, bewildered. There were still moments when he wondered how he managed to convince a woman as amazing as her to stay with a bumbling fool like him. He'd never know though, Sarah would kill him for asking.

Chuck was so overcome with emotion he was sure he was sporting the goofiest grin on his face.

_God._ It was a wonder how Sarah could keep such a straight face. It wasn't just her attentive expression either, it was her eyes. Chuck didn't know there could be such depth to blue, but there they were, endless azures, pure enough for him to dive into.

He could read her emotions as if they were his own, and he wondered if she knew that he felt the very same if not more.

Chuck initiated the kiss this time, wary not to drown in her embrace just yet. But when they broke free, he was still breathless, gasping for air. Sarah grinned like the cat that got the cream, smug as ever.

"Now, Chuck," she said, arching her brows. "I'm going to show you what a _normal_ wife does for her husband. And believe me, it will be anything but boring."

.

_The End. _

_

* * *

_

_I realize this might not be the ending you, my lovely readers, would have wanted but after a lot of consideration, this was the only one that satisfied me. No, not everything is explained in the end but i'm sure you can guess and i decided against an epilogue cause we all know how well that worked out last time. anyway, i really hope the ending didn't ruin the story for you. _

_I just wanted to say, because i'm sure i don't say it enough, that i'm blown away by the support here on this site. __Thank you for providing me with your feedback, it's really the most rewarding part of writing. __I haven't been here very long and I still can't believe people actually want to read my work. every time i tell myself that i'm done with writing i get a msg and somehow find myself suckered in all over again.  
_

_it's been fun. until next time--_

_malamoo.  
_


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